Pandora's Box
by Rythm.Emotion
Summary: [AU][Zemyx][Rated for later]When Demyx met Zexion he had no idea his perceptions were about to be altered. He had no idea he'd discover love. And he had no idea that love would nearly tear his life to pieces.
1. Tea Time

**A/N: **I don't know what to say in this little note thing. Oh! I know! This fic will most likely be a very long fic. At least, I _want_ it to be very long. We're talking, 15-20 chapters. But, who knows? It's me, and I'm usually bad about that. But, I am making it required of myself to have at least 5000 words per chapter. And I'm going to try to update once a week. Maybe every Monday? I don't know yet, we'll see how things go. (I'll try really, really hard to not procrastinate this fic, like I tend to do sometimes, kay?)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of what will hopefully be a much longer story.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any other random references I make to things in today's society (bands, songs, movies, Bill Gates).

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**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter One: Tea Time**

My name is Demyx, just Demyx, thank you very much. I'm writing this story about a time in my life when I had some serious doubts about my survival. I thought I would die of a broken heart, or maybe at my own hand. I'm writing this because it might be important to someone, maybe someone going through the same thing I went through, I'm not really sure. All I _really_ know it that I've been asked to write this by someone very close to me. And, well, to be cliché, I'm completely whipped.

Anyway, here I am. Nineteen years old and living alone in a small loft apartment. The nicest and most expensive thing I own is the Sony laptop I'm typing this on. I'm writing a story about the most horrible time in my life. The time that I thought I would actually die from all the pain and heartache. And I'm doing it with a _smile._

Understand one thing before I proceed. I'm really not looking forward to writing this. I don't want to relive that time, I do it enough the way it is. But Zexion has been trying to convince me to write this for months. I ignored him for a long time, but as I said, I'm pretty whipped. So it really was only a matter of time before I gave in.

Another thing before the beginning really begins. I've taken some liberties in regard to the thoughts and feelings of other people. Some of the details I learned later, but some of them I'm just guessing at. That's the real problem with first person narrative. You only get one true side of the story. But I suppose that makes it more _real_, doesn't it? Because in life, don't we only ever _really _see one side?

This story really starts when I was about six. That was when I had my first crush, and it was on a boy. I didn't understand that there was anything strange about it. I didn't know anything about the world. And I was a shy, reclusive child by nature and so no one, not even my parents, ever found out.

In hindsight, I almost _wish _someone had found out. Maybe things would have been different.

I'm not going to start there, though, I'm going to skim over the face of time some, I don't want to bore you with the details of my early childhood. Instead I'm going to move to when things _really_ started to go to hell in a hand basket.

I was thirteen years old when Zexion and his marginally insane mother moved into the apartment below mine. I don't know if I would call our first meeting love at first sight, definitely not on his part anyway. But I was entranced by him, to a degree (mostly the hair, I'm a hair guy), and we were quick to make friends. Once we got past his stiff upper lip, English sense of things anyway.

As soon as my mom saw the moving truck pull in she started to get excited. It was the sort of thing she lived for, only it was up to me to introduce us both to the new neighbors. You'd think a mother would be gentle with a very shy child when asking them to speak to new people, wouldn't you? But my mother wasn't that type of person. Instead of giving me a pep talk or some sort of comfort, she just shoved me out the front door with a smile and a wave.

The idea of walking down the stairs to introduce myself to new people was terrifying. But my mother was, and probably always will be a very scary person when she's ignored. And the thought of pissing her off was scarier even than meeting new people.

I went down the stairs one at a time, hands shoved deep in my pockets and my head hung. In the five seconds it took to get down the stairs I formulated an idea of what my new neighbors must be like. The image I made of them had me nearly trembling by the time I got to the large van.

A blonde woman greeted me as she climbed out of the van. She wore a very business woman looking skirt that showed her curves but not in an erotic way. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun with two strands sticking up in the front like antennae. The hair accentuated her severe, professional appearance.

She regarded me with a skeptically raised eyebrow, and I can just imagine what she saw; A lanky kid with loose fitting clothes and unkempt blond hair. In comparison to her meticulous orderliness I must have looked homeless or lazy or both.

"Uh ... Hi," my voice wavered though I was doing my best to keep it steady. "My name's Demyx." I muttered. "I live upstairs."

She nodded, her lips stretching into something akin to a smile. "I'm Larxene Michaels," her words were crisp with an accent I had no trouble recognizing. She held her hand out to me, long fingers and manicured nails; I took it and shook it meekly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

To get off track for a moment, I'd just like to say that I wish I could write the way she spoke phonetically. But, though I've been around that accent for years now, I still can't seem to manage it. The way they seem to drop the '-ure' and make it '-ah.' Morphing 'pleasure' into '_pleasah_.' I don't really know, maybe I'm just intrigued by English accents.

I nodded to her, hoping the gesture wasn't as weak as it seemed to feel. "Me too," I murmured.

She craned her neck behind her, retracting her hand. "Zexion, come here."

My eyes drifted to the apartment door, which stood open, as Zexion stepped over the threshold and I saw him for the first time. You could see the man he was to become on his features, and my first thought was that he must be older than me. As I already said, it wasn't really love at first sight, but his hair caught my attention and my fascination. It was and is a strange shade of periwinkle, and though I wasn't sure it was natural, I couldn't help but think it was beautiful.

He didn't smile as he approached, and that drew my attention from his hair. The unfriendly demeanor he carried himself with made me forget his hair and remember my fear. "Yes, mum?" He spoke with the same accent as his mother, and if this surprised me, I'm not sure why.

"Zexion, this is Demyx, from upstairs." She stepped away from us and went around to the back of the van. "Why don't you go and introduce yourself to his family? Maybe invite them over for tea tomorrow. I'll get started here."

Zexion nodded, hair waving around his face. "Alright mum." He didn't seem very happy about the idea, in fact, he seemed almost pissed. "Your name is Demyx?"

I nodded, wondering his age and whether or not he was curious about mine. "And you're Zexion," I tried to parrot the accent when I said his name but it didn't sound right (and still doesn't when I try.)

A small smile slipped onto his face and he nodded. "I am."

I smiled, turning towards the stairs. "What school are you going to?"

I suppose I should take another moment away from the story to explain the relevance of this question. We live in a very religious (mostly Catholic) area, and most of the schools are semi-private catholic ones. So, that I was asking a neighbor what school they'd be going to really wasn't odd at all because the schools didn't have actual districts.

"St. Mary's."

I was a little taken aback by his answer. St. Mary's was _my_ school. The school I'd always went to and the school all my friends went to. (I'd later think of him going there as divine intervention or a hellish curse, depending on how things were going.)

"What grade are you in?"

He thought for a moment, I wasn't sure what about but he told me later that he'd seriously considered telling me to 'bugger off' (English equivalent of 'fuck off.') "I'll be a freshman," he finally said, brushing his strangely beautiful hair out of his eyes.

I don't really know why I was skeptical of his answer, but I was. I thought, maybe he was only saying that to answer my question. I didn't really get the chance to talk to him anymore about it, however, because it doesn't really take that long to climb a flight of stairs and get to a door.

"This is me," I muttered, pushing the door open. "Mom?"

If I thought, for even a moment, that my mother wouldn't be standing somewhere near the door, I was very mistaken. She was standing just by the window, peering out it.

"Hmm?" She said with a bright smile.

"This is .. uh … This is Zexion." I'm not sure why (and I likely never will be), but I was more shy around my own mother at that moment than I had been around Zexion.

Smiling, my mother extended her hand to Zexion. "Hello. I'm Demyx's mother, Ms. LaSalle."

Up until this point, I hadn't mentioned to Zexion that I was, technically, French. And I hadn't intended to from the moment I heard _his_ accent. But my mother hadn't heard him speak, and thus knew not what she was doing.

Zexion, however, kept a cool face. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

I saw my mother's expression drop. She still harbored ill-will towards the English that many France natives held. (Though I never really understood it myself.)

"Uh … Hey, Zexion, do you like music?"

I said the first thing that came into my mouth. It was just too much for me to stand there and watch them stare each other down. And music was my only real comfort, the only thing I felt perfectly fine doing. I never worried about the way other people took the music I listened to or tried to play myself.

Luckily Zexion also liked music. And was also eager to escape my mother's near glare. He nodded. "What sort of music?"

"Uhm … Let me show you." I took him by the hand without thinking about it and pulled him into my room. (Later I'd reflect on how comfortable I felt around him and how strangely divine that was.)

My room was small and not very orderly. Band posters of all sorts covered what wall space I had. And I'd filled the floor not taken up by my bed and dresser with random bits of musical items. My guitar stood in one corner gleaming prettily under the light of the center bulb.

His eyes scanned the walls and I saw little recognition behind them. "I've never heard of most of these bands," he said, eyes resting on my guitar. "Do you play that?"

I followed his eyes, a small blush creeping across my cheeks. "Yeah … Not very well though …"

He nodded, not saying anything else on that subject. "I don't listen to many foreign bands," a small pause. "Well, I suppose technically I do. After all, this is America and all I listen to is English."

I smiled, feeling any last shred of anxiety melting away. "I listen to a few English bands," I said. "The Rolling Stones, the Clash …"

"Overrated," he raised a hand to silence me, it was a gesture I would come to love. "The Clash, that is. Not so much the Stones."

My smile faded away into something akin to annoyance I'm sure. Even then, I didn't particularly like being cold shouldered, and I felt that's what he was trying to do (later he confirmed this, and with a smile!) "Well, there are tons of better bands than those."

He nodded, eyes still scanning my room. "I'd ask you two over for tea like my mum told me to, but I don't think your mum would be interested."

I shook my head, wanting, for some reason, to go anyway. "She's not really as bias against the English as she may seem. I mean, she was born in France but she didn't grow up there, and I've never even _been_ there. So …" I closed my mouth. I was rambling, and he wore the most amused looking expression I think I'd ever seen.

He shrugged. "Okay, I'll ask."

I smiled then, happy that my rant hadn't apparently annoyed him. He was interesting to me, right from the start, and the thought that he might _not_ want to spend any more time with me hurt. Even then. I didn't understand it, and wouldn't for a while, but it was the beginning of love.

He went to my bed and picked up a leather bound journal from beside the pillow. The leather was black, but I'd stuck a rainbow sticker to it for color (that's what I told my mom anyway.) He had it open and was undoubtedly reading it before I realized what he'd picked up.

"Hey!" I launched across the room and wrenched the journal from his pale, slender hands. "Sorry … It's … uh … Private …" I snapped it closed and shoved it under my pillow.

"Y'know," I muttered, feeling the blush on my face. "I thought English people were polite by default."

"Yes, well, that's a common misconception." He smiled as he said it and crossed his arms over his chest. "I should probably go, however. I ought to help mum unload."

I nodded a little, willing the blush to recede. "Want me to walk you?" It was an odd offer, and I didn't understand the romantic advance hidden in the words. Probably because I was, and still am, hopelessly naïve.

He laughed quietly. "No, I think I can manage, thanks." He crossed the room with a graceful swagger I'd never be able to reproduce, not even if I had all eternity to do so. "I'll see you later, Demyx."

He waved a hand over his shoulder as he left the room. I stood there, not saying anything, not moving, and scarcely thinking. I could hear him ask my mother over for tea and I could hear her forced yes.

You see, I'd lied to him when I told him my mother wasn't biased against the English. Because she was. She didn't use to be, in fact, she married an Englishman. But when my father died she blamed him and his nation. (More on that subject later.)

I didn't blame him or anyone else, though. I just numbed myself whenever I thought of him.

But the fact that she had said yes broke through my stillness. And as soon as I heard the front door open and close I sprang to my guitar and pulled it into my arms. I ran my fingers down the strings, loving the gentle sound of my cheap acoustic guitar.

I've always been a music nut. For as long as I can remember I've been able to pick up any instrument and play it. My voice, I've been told, is melodious and beautiful (Zexion is standing behind me, pointing at the screen and telling me to 'use some of that fancy prose when you describe yourself.') But, until I was much older, I didn't have the chance to explore the possibility of a career in music.

My guitar was one of the ways I channeled my emotions, the strong, powerful ones I couldn't write in my journal. When such an emotion gripped me, I'd pick up my guitar and play the cords as they came to me.

This time they were soft, escalating to rapid, loud cords and falling back again. They melded together in a contrastingly beautiful way that captured my tumultuous feelings perfectly. My eyes closed to the sound and I rocked back and forth with the music. Feeling it flood through me, coursing through my veins like blood. Like something vital and need and _longed for._

"Where's that coming from?" My mother's voice sliced through my concentration and my fingers missed the strings.

The melody was lost before I could finish it, which guaranteed I'd likely never rediscover it.

My mother _supported_ my music. So enthusiastically that it was really very annoying. Any time she heard me playing she'd come in and ask me about it. Usually that would make me loose my focus, and in turn, I'd loose the notes.

I stared up at her, strands of hair falling into my face and obscuring my vision. "Huh?"

She smiled. "That was different from anything I've ever heard you play. Where'd the inspiration come from?"

In hindsight, I can remember seeing the first thin traces of suspicion in her eyes. I didn't notice it then, and that was likely because I hadn't yet realized there was any unusual emotions between Zexion and myself. I _should_ have been more observant. I _wish_ I'd been more observant.

Instead of being cautious with my answer I just shrugged. "I dunno," I said, shoving my hair out of my eyes and laying the guitar aside. "Maybe it was from meeting new people?"

She nodded, and I think she really believed my answer. Probably because it wasn't really a lie or an excuse or anything. It was the way I explained the music to myself. The best way I knew how to explain that sudden flux of emotion.

"What do you think about having tea with them tomorrow?" She leaned against me doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

I shrugged. "Could be fun. If we don't have to do any crazy English things." I smiled as I mildly bashed the English, mom loved it though.

"I don't think we'll have to eat 'crumpets' or anything." She said with a small laugh.

I plopped down onto my bed, grinning from ear to ear. I love my mom, even though she's crazy and close minded. I'll always love her, regardless of what she says or does. Maybe I'm too forgiving, maybe I'm too nice, I don't really know. I just know that at times like that, when we sat together (I sat, she stood) and laughed are times that I'll never forget, and I don't ever _want_ to forget them.

"What time is 'tea time?'"

She shrugged. "We're supposed to be there around four," she winked. "I think being a few minutes late is warranted."

I laughed again, though the joke, by that time, was wearing thin. "Hey, mom? My school supplies list came today. So … Can I have some money to go buy them?"

Money. Always the cause of concern and hardship in my house. Even when I was asking for something I needed. But I knew, by the expression on her face, that she'd not have a problem with the money. This time. Apparently the last work period had been good to her.

See, my mom worked two jobs for most of my life. One of them a day job at a diner, the other a night job at a different diner. It was hard work, demanding much of her. And I helped whenever I could and got a small job as soon as I was old enough. But it was still tough.

"How much do you need?"

"Oh, I could probably make due with twenty dollars or so."

She shook her head, knowing full-well that it would take over twenty dollars to get everything. "Remind me in the morning, okay?" I nodded. "Did you get your summer homework done?"

I groaned over dramatically, leaning backwards with a hand on my forehead. (Zexion would like to say that my dramatic flare only got worse as I got older.) "I almost have it done, I just have to polish up my essay, and type it."

"Okay, well, get to it." She turned and left the doorway, closing the door behind her.

I rolled off my bed and rifled through some paper for my hand written essay. At St. Mary's, most of the classes were pretty easy. But, if you were part of the handful of students in the honors classes, they got ridiculously difficult and demanding.

Take English for example; you're given a book to read over the summer (usually a long, and boring one). After reading the book, you'd have to write at east a five page essay on it. And it had to be typed.

I didn't have a computer, and wouldn't get one for many years (even though they were common). So the last requirement was difficult for me to follow. Or would have been if I didn't have really good friends (who had computers.)

I picked up the phone and dialed Sora/Roxas' number. The two were twins, as different from each other as night and day. On one hand you have the optimistic, hyperactive Sora, and on the other you have Roxas. Roxas is quite the little trouble maker. Alongside Axel (who happened to later become his boyfriend) they were accountable for over 90 percent of the trouble at our school. And how they were never kicked out, the way Zexion and I were, I'm not sure.

"Yo," the voice was quiet, calm; the voice of Roxas.

"Hey, Roxas, this is Demyx."

"Yeah, I know," he said. "There's this thing called 'called ID.' Kinda takes away all surprise and mystery when answering the phone."

I rolled my eyes but mostly ignored his sarcasm. "Yeah, okay. Hey, can I come by sometime in the next few days and use your computer?"

"English essay?"

"Yeah, have you done it?"

"Nope," I heard something crunch. Probably a carrot. Roxas loves carrots.

"You're not gonna, are you?"

"Oh, I will. Eventually." There was some rustling in the background and a new voice spoke into the phone.

"Hey, Dem. I heard you have new neighbors. Are they cool?" It was Sora, and, as always, he was remarkably well informed.

"Uhm … Yeah, I guess. They're English, so you know how mom's taking it." I muttered, wondering who fed Sora his information. God, it had to be God that did it. (He _still_, to this day, _refuses_ to tell us who his source is.)

"Oh," I could almost imagine the frown trying to steal over his face. Sora was, at that time, the only person who knew the details of my dad. "But, you've met them already and they're nice?"

Zexion's face flashed into my mind. "Yeah, they're nice, so far as English people go. They invited mom and I over for tea tomorrow."

He giggled and I could all but _see_ him jumping up and down. "They actually _do_ that?"

I sighed. "Yeah, Sora, they do."

Talking to Sora always cheered me up, even when I didn't really _need_ to be cheered up. There was something in Sora's smile and laugh that was infectious. And, regardless of my mood, I always found myself smiling around the kid.

"So, what's this guy really _like_?"

"Huh?"

He laughed. "You were zoned out again, weren't you, Dem?"

"Yeah, I guess. What'd you say?"

"I asked what the new guy was like."

"Oh, uh … Well, I'm not really sure actually. I mean, I've only talked to him once. And we didn't really get to talk for that long."

"Well, what's your first impression of him?"

That made me think, _really_ think of the way Zexion and I had talked. About how freely I'd been able to speak around him. My easy smile. And lastly, the way his hair fell into his eyes. I'm not really sure _why_ I kept coming back to his hair, but for some reason it captivated me. Made me want to touch it, run my fingers through it …

"It was a good first impression." I nodded, smiling and still not noticing anything odd.

"Awesome!" Their side of the line went silent for a moment, they were plotting together but I didn't know it. When Sora returned he seemed to be filled with renewed hyperactivity.

"So, Dem, think your mom would mind if we came over for a little while?"

I groaned, the last time they'd come over they'd brought their pet ferret, Cyrano. Between the three of them, they really managed to make a mess of things.

"I dunno. Are you bringing the ferret?"

"Eh. Heh. Heh." Sora's giggle this time was mostly fake, and completely forced. "It wasn't his fault. Really. It was mostly Roxas' fault."

Again there were rustling noises in the background. Probably Roxas trying to assert his innocence. (Which was something he couldn't often do, seeing as how he was almost _always_ part of the guilty party.)

"Roxas told me to tell you that he had nothing to do with 'the ferret incident.'"

I laughed at that, couldn't help it really. When the two of them went at it it was either ridiculously funny (at least at the time) or incredibly destructive. Usually it was the latter. And the destruction was almost always at someone else's expense.

"Regardless, I'll have to talk to my mom about it."

"Tell her that we'll clean up any mess we make."

I rolled me eyes. "I doubt that's exactly what she'll want to hear."

"Tell her we miss our best friend and that we really want to see you, and vice versa." It was Roxas then, and I'd lost. Because Roxas could talk anyone into anything. (It didn't surprise anyone when he went into law school.)

"I'll ask her, okay?"

"Yeah. Cool. Call us back when you get the answer," he said. "We'll be on our way so call the cell."

"Okay, but Roxas …"

Dial tone. And why that surprised me, I'm not entirely sure.

I groaned and hung up the phone, resolving to the fact that I _had_ to talk to my mom about the twins coming over. She wouldn't be happy about the idea, I knew that as I opened my door, but I also knew that if I didn't convince her they'd try to sneak in trough a window or something.

"Hey mom?" I let my door swing closed behind me and walked out into the living room. "Can I ask you something?"

She was sitting in the living room, filling out something that looked like a job application. (She was, at the time, looking to get a better paying job.) She looked up at me and smiled, laying her pen aside on the paper.

"Hmm?"

"Uh … Would it be cool if Sora and Roxas came over for a little while?"

One eyebrow twitched, it was almost imperceptible but I'd learned to watch for that tell of anger.

"The last time they came over they nearly got us evicted."

My face fell a little. She remembered what we referred to as 'the ferret incident' and sometimes 'the day which will live in infamy.' But that wasn't surprising, what surprised me was the smile that slowly crawled across her face.

"Are they planning on bringing Cyrano?"

"N-no," I stammered. "I told them _not_ to bring him."

She shrugged and took up the pen again. "So long as they don't make a mess of anything, they can come over for a while."

I grinned, and if my mother and I were closer I would have hugged her then. But we've never been that close, and we probably never will be.

"Thanks!" I ran back into my room and grabbed the phone. I dialed Sora's cell phone number from memory and waited.

Sora never answered, however. But Roxas did. "Yo. Take it your mom said yes."

"This is Sora's phone, right?"

"Yeah. Your point?"

"Oh, nothing …"

"We'll be there in about ten minutes."

"You really don't care if my mom said no, do you?"

"Nope. But you're not squawking at me if she did, so I figure she said yes."

"I don't squawk."

"Yes you do."

Okay, so maybe I _do_ squawk from time to time. But not as often as he'd like to make it seem.

"Why do you guys want to come over anyway?" I decided a change in subject was probably my best course of action.

"You have a new neighbor, Demyx," he said, and I can still imagine the devilish grin that must have been on his face. "We need to meet him."

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**A/N:** Well, here you are, the first chapter of Pandora's Box. This took me a while to finish, sort of. I wrote most of it at school, during class, when I probably should have been paying attention to the lesson or whatever. But, I also actually did some of it at home. And, it's all in a notebook, which sort of sucked. Because, according to the notebook, it's twenty three pages long. And, believe you me, that's a lot of typing to have to do.

But, anyway. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. And, I hope you stick around and read the rest of this, though it will probably take me a while to get it finished. This fic is sort of a self challenge, y'know? I want to see if I'm capable.

Well, you should review this. It makes me happy and knowing I have fans will give me incentive to work faster.


	2. With a Dramatic Flare

**A/N: **Well, here's chapter two. I finished writing it Monday night (the same day I posted chapter one!) But I decided to hold off on posting it until I could look over it and make sure it was of good quality (I randomly skimmed the first chapter and saw _loads_ of mistakes!) Hopefully this chapter will capture your interest and all that jazz.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any other random references I make to things in today's society (bands, songs, movies, Bill Gates).

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**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter Two: With a Dramatic Flare  
**

Sora and Roxas can be scary to new people, especially if they're together and not trying to harness their destructive powers. Sora goes in with a flashy, comfort inducing grin while Roxas flanks the person to bombard them with snarky questions. Yeah, pretty crappy of them, I know. But it's how they do things.

I didn't want Zexion to meet the twins until he absolutely _had_ to. Because I knew the way their tactics worked. And I knew that they would try their damnedest to ascertain Zexion's worthiness. I knew they'd rush in and demand he answer their questions. Demand he tell him all they want to know. Full name, age, birthday, favorite color; the works.

Needless to really say, as soon as Roxas hung up on me, I sort of freaked out. My first reaction was to stare at the phone. Then to chew on its short, rubber antennae. But by then I realized that I _needed_ to set myself in motion. I need to _warn_ Zexion.

And in my mind's eye I could see myself vaulting down the stairs. Running to his door, wrenching it open and screaming a warning at him. Something akin to, '_my insane friends are coming to interrogate you! Run!'_

Even the inner Demyx was smart enough to see that _that_ particular course of action was senseless. So far as I could tell, Zexion didn't really like me, or at the best was reserving his judgment in my regard. But were I to go to him and try to warn him it would tip the scales against me.

So I only _really_ had one choice, though it wasn't much of one. The only thing I could do was meet the twins half way and try to talk them out of meeting Zexion. Sora I could possibly persuade, but Roxas would be hard, nigh impossible, to sway.

But, being that it was my only choice, I tossed aside the phone and wrenched open the window. I stuck my head out of it, hair flapping in the wind. Sora and Roxas were no closer than I thought they would be, and that was good. Because I already had precious little time to organize my chaotic thoughts and pull together something like a plan.

Unfortunately my plan was, and usually is, to wing it.

I climbed out the window and onto the fire escape, something I'd never done before but that would later become a habit. I jumped to the ladder on the side and began to climb down.

As fate would have it, I passed the room that was to be Zexion's. He stood, just behind it, and stared at me.

I must have looked ridiculous, clinging to the ladder and staring back at him. And I though, _Gods, he'll think I'm a freak now …_But the look he wore didn't seem to say that. Instead he looked … _amused._

"What are you doing?" He asked after opening the window and leaning his elbows on its sill.

"I … uh … Going to meet some friends." Again I felt the familiar blush creep across my cheeks and nose.

"Through the window and down the fire escape?"

I gulped. "It's sort of a long story …"

"Too long?"

"Well, I am _hanging _here …"

His light eyes ran up and down the length of my body and I felt my face grow hotter under his gaze. "Tell me later?"

I nodded. "Promise."

"Okay, I'll hold you to that." He pulled himself back into his room and lowered the window with a small wave.

I sighed, partly in relief but mostly in exasperation. But I didn't have time to just stand there, after all, I'd wasted enough time by then. And so I climbed down the rest of the way as quickly as I could and I was running towards my friends as soon as my feet touched _terra__firma_.

I can't remember what went through my mind as I ran towards them. If I thought anything it was probably a jumble of incoherent half thoughts that all came back to the same thing. I didn't want them to scare Zexion away from me. Even though I was unaware of them at the time, I was nurturing feelings for Zexion. And those feelings screamed that he not be torn away.

When the twins came into view I didn't slow down. And I continued to run as I plowed into Sora, knocking him to the ground with my arms laced around his thin middle. (I asked them later what they'd seen and Sora said I looked like a little blue bullet.)

"What the _hell_?" Roxas tried to pull me off Sora, who could barely get his breath, but I wouldn't let go.

"Please don't freak him out, okay?!" I cried, burying my face into his stomach and not caring that I was making a fool of myself. "He's really cool and his hair is _awesome_ and I don't want you to make him go away!"

I'm groaning as I write this, because I can barely believe how stupid and how in love I was with him, even when I'd only just met him. And here I've been trying to deny that I fell in love with him when I first saw him. Sometimes I am such an idiot. My present self, not just the past me.

"Dude, chill out," Roxas finally succeeded in his goal of extricating me from his brother and he tossed me aside. "You okay, Sora?"

Sora sat up slowly and shot us a thumbs up. "I'm okay," he whispered, bright blue eyes locked onto me. "You okay, Dem?"

I felt control flooding back into my body and I blushed again (it seems I do that a lot). "Sorry …" I looked away from him, searching myself for why I'd jumped him like that.

"What the _hell_ was up with _that_?" Roxas stood, hands on his hips and half glaring at me. "I mean, Jesus dude, you could kill someone like that."

"Sorry …" I climbed to my feet and brushed off my clothes. "I just … Don't you think going to pester someone on their first day in a new place is kinda rude?"

"Oh, you do it and it's being polite, we try to do it, and we're rude. Is that how it is, Demyx?"

"No, it's not that, it's just … He's my neighbor. You guys live _blocks_ away." I looked to Sora, hoping he'd see my point and convince his twin to follow suit.

"We'll be good," he said, and the sparkle in his eyes killed all my hope. "We promise."

Roxas chuckled. "I don't promise _anything_. Everyone has to pass our test to become our friend. This guy's no exception to that rule."

"Roxas, that's not fair! We don't even know if he _wants_ to be our friend!"

"Of course he does," Roxas said and motioned to Sora. "Besides, Sora told me that you came up with some killer music after you two hung out. So _you_ want him to be our friend, right?"

I was too numb at that point to question how they could _possibly_ know that. "Well …"

"Why else would you tackle Sora and--"

"Demyx, are you _crying_?"

Sora's gentler voice broke through my numbness and I raised a finger to my face, it came back wet. I _was_ crying but I didn't know why. There was no reason to be crying, no reason to have gotten so emotional over something as small as Sora and Roxas wanting to meet Zexion. So why were the tears there?

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I looked up at Sora, sniffling a little and wiping at my eyes. "Yeah, I'm okay. Something got into my eyes, prob'ly." I brushed my clothes off again and regarded both my friends. "Let's just … not bother him for a couple of days?"

"Okay, Dem …"

"No way," Roxas wagged a finger at me. "I can agree to tune down the kookiness a level or two. But I'm not gonna back off completely just because you forced some water works."

"Roxas, don't be an ass--"

"How many levels are you willing to go down?"

Roxas looked at me, hitched his thumbs into his pockets and started forward. "You'll see." And that's all I could get him to say.

"This sucks," I murmured, shuffling along behind Roxas and next to Sora.

"This guy's that cool?"

I shrugged. "I don't really know. I mean, I barely know him. He just … _Seems_ really cool."

"And you like him."

"Well, yeah. Like I said … Wait, that wasn't a question, was it?"

Sora grinned and shook his head, spiky brown hair shaking around his face. "No, it wasn't," he laced his fingers together behind his head in his characteristic way.

I groaned again. "Do you think you could possibly keep your brother in control?"

Sora looked at me and looked almost sad. "I can _try_. But it's _Roxas_ we're talking about."

"Yeah, I know …" I looked ahead of us and at Roxas' back. "I really hope he isn't an ass. Because, y'know, he tends to be one."

"I heard that," Roxas said, turning around and walking backwards. "And I take offense. I'm _so_ not an ass."

I pouted and Sora and I jogged to catch up. "I think we should act normal, for once," Sora said.

"Relatively, maybe," the way he accented 'maybe' made it pretty obvious he had no intention of acting normal.

"You hate me, don't you?"

Roxas' brow knitted together in obvious confusion. "Why are you being so dramatic?"

"I'm not being dramatic!"

"You're being a _little_ dramatic," Sora whispered in my ear.

I sighed and threw my hands up in the air, being purposefully dramatic. "Fine! But I'm _not_ going with you when you scare the poor guy!"

Roxas laughed. "Of course you are!" He took me by the arm and led me to Zexion's door, Sora trailing along behind and not doing a single thing to help me.

Roxas wrapped his knuckles against the door and stood waiting, still holding my by my arm.

Zexion came to the door a few moments later, took one look at the three of us and closed it again. We stood there, blinking simultaneously, when he opened the door again.

"Okay, what is this, exactly?" His crisp accent cut through us, coupled with his mildly amused glare.

"This is my friends ruining my life …" I muttered before being tossed back behind Sora and Roxas.

"My name's Sora!"

"And I'm Roxas."

"We're friends of Demyx," Sora said, and I could _hear_ his smile. "We came over to meet you!"

Zexion replied slowly, his voice sounded very strained. "Is there any _reason_ why I should close my door right now?"

"If you close the door now, Demyx will cry."

In the silence that followed _that_ statement I looked up and locked eyes with Zexion. I tried to smile, going for anything aside from the confused, stupid look I must have been wearing. He smiled a little, but that smile disappeared as soon as he looked back at my friends.

"So, you assume I care about the feelings of someone I've only known for a few hours?"

Roxas looked to Sora and whispered something I couldn't quite make out (and couldn't later get them to amplify.) After a few seconds of hushed words and slight nods, Roxas turned to Zexion.

"We hear you're going to St. Mary's," he said. "That's our school, all of ours. So, what classes are you taking?"

Sora grinned at Zexion, obviously trying to soften him up. "The usual ones. Why are you asking?"

"Well, we're curious!" Sora said, rocking back and forth a little. "And Dem wants to know if you'll be in any of his classes?"

"Dem?" Zexion's eyes once again locked onto me and that damn familiar blush spread itself out again. But whether that was because he had decided to test out my nick name or simply because he was looking at me I'll likely never know. "Is that true?"

"Well … I would--"

"You two aren't allowed to talk," Roxas wagged his finger at Zexion and then at me.

"I don't think I want to talk to you." Zexion leaned against the door again and I couldn't help but think he _really_ looked older than he'd said.

"How old are you _really_?" I asked, going towards him and shoving my way through Sora and Roxas. "I don't think you're really our age."

Zexion looked at me, and I could tell he was looking at me and only me. "I really am going to be a freshman, Demyx." His voice was level, with no trace of its earlier annoyance. "Why don't you believe me?"

"You just--"

Roxas' hands were on my shoulder again and he shoved me backwards ... again. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

Zexion rubbed his right temple in slow, circular motions. "Roxas, Sora, as wonderful as it was to meet you, I have unpacking to do. So could you _please_ leave me alone?"

Roxas looked at Sora and their treacherous whispering began again. They went at it longer this time, and Zexion's expression bordered on murderous.

"Okay, look, we'll go away peacefully if you'll answer one question." Roxas said.

"Deal?" Sora said with his annoyingly cheery smile.

"It'll be easier if you don't argue with them …" I whispered, pretty certain I had lost any chance of ever been friends with Zexion.

Zexion sighed, his slender fingers working more intently on his temple. "One question. And then you leave me alone?"

"For the night at least."

Zexion sighed again. "Fine. One question."

"Why did you move here?"

I looked up as something cold and steely passed over Zexion's eyes. His lips pursed together, into a thin line, and his hand went to the door knob I couldn't see. It looked to me, from where I sat, that the question had provoked something painful.

He snapped the door closed in their faces and they slowly turned to look at me. "What the _hell_ was _that_ about?"

"Well, obviously you asked him a personal question." It was becoming a futile effort to keep myself clean and on my feet, but I stood again anyway. "And if you shove me one more time, Roxas, I swear I'll kill you."

"Ohhh, _serious_ Demyx."

I shoved past them again and knocked on the door. "Go wait for me in my room, okay?" They looked at me for no longer than a moment before deciding it was best to run up the stairs and stand on the balcony to listen. Which was all I expected of them.

I wasn't sure that Zexion would open the door, in fact, I was pretty sure he _wouldn't_. And why should he, really? I had no idea why their question had made him retreat like it had. But something about it had obviously struck some chord of pain.

It surprised me when he opened the door, and this time I could see his mother in the background. Both looked annoyed.

"I just wanted … to apologize …"

"Why?" His cold glare fixed on me, and I didn't think I would be able to escape it. And I never did, not really.

"Roxas said something that upset you and … and I didn't want to go home if you were upset because ... I don't really know why ... You just seem like a really cool person and my friends can be jerks sometimes, and I didn't want to pester--"

"Demyx, it's okay," his expression was soft. Curiously enough it was the softest I'd yet seen on his features. "I'm not upset, see?" He pointed to himself, and the thin smile he wore.

"Well ... Good ... I'm glad. I mean ... they really didn't mean anything by it. They just don't know how to talk to people. They're kind of retarded like that ..."

He laughed quietly at that, and I noticed something about that laugh, something that I'll never forget and never describe perfectly. It was sweet, gentle, and smooth. Yet I don't know anything worthy of comparison, because I've never heard anything like it. And I must have been staring, because he raised an eyebrow at me in that curious way I was coming to recognize and love.

"I really do have a lot of unpacking to get to."

"Oh ... Yeah, right." I was stammering again but blessedly _not_ blushing. "Again, I'm sorry."

"It's alright Demyx," he stepped behind the door, one hand resting behind it and the other leaning on the frame. "I'll see you tomorrow for tea."

I nodded and waved, a gesture that he returned as he closed the door. The lock clicked, ringing out in the silence of the porch nearing sunset.

"Demyx! We are _not_ retarded!" It was Roxas yelling, and the outburst sounded previously restrained (apparently Sora had had to clamp his mouth shut to keep him from yelling sooner.)

"You're _plenty_ retarded," I muttered, going towards the stairs.

"We're not as retarded so much as we are tactless," Sora said; and of course he _would_. He always searches for the way to keep us from fighting (not just us, actually, it's Sora's life goal to keep _everyone_ from fighting.)

I shook my head, climbing the stairs two at a time. "You're retarded _and_ tactless. How's that?"

"You're just pissy because you think he won't want to hang out with you now."

"No, Roxas, I'm 'pissy' because now he'll probably never want to hang out with _you two._ And, like it or not, you're two of my best friends."

Sora looked to his twin and I think he realized that they'd done something that had hurt me, though none of us really understood _why_ it had hurt me. "Roxas ... Maybe we went too far?"

"How is that possible? All we did was ask him a _fucking_ question!" Sora cringed at the expletive (at that time Roxas was the only one of us who _really_ cursed. And he did it quite a lot.) "We had no way of knowing he'd freak out."

I saw the relevance in Roxas' argument. This time really _hadn't_ been his fault. He hadn't _intentionally _upset Zexion, but what he'd said _had_ upset him. And Roxas had done _nothing_ to try and lessen the blow after he'd seen its effect.

"You could have acted differently ..."

Roxas shrugged, nearly throwing his arms in the air to mimic my earlier show of exasperation and drama. "Yeah, well, whatever," he muttered. "I'm going home." He stormed past his brother and myself, and then proceeded to stomp down the stairs.

"Roxas!" Sora called after him, and actually _started_ after him.

"Let him go, Sora, he's being an ass."

Sora sighed. "You were a little hard on him, Dem ..." He looked up at me and shot me a meager but bright smile. "And, you know what my dad always says about him." He morphed his face into a mockery of his father's and then mimicked his voice. "'You shouldn't let Roxas get to you. He doesn't _mean_ to do harm.'" He lost the charade and collapsed into peels of laughter.

"Yeah, okay, point taken," I muttered and looked out at the fading figure of Roxas, who was running by that time. "Do you want to come inside?" Mom's going to work soon but she _did_ say you two could come over."

This time his face nearly blinded me, the smile was so bright. "She actually said that?"

I nodded. "She just said no Cyrano and no trouble making."

He nodded vigorously, hair shaking all around him but ultimately falling back into its unkempt spikes. "Awesome!" He ran around me and into my apartment.

I shook my head, laughing quietly and following after him. He was already in the kitchen with my mother by the time I'd even walked in the door. He was bouncing up and down, profusely thanking her for letting him come over.

She smiled sweetly and nodded. "Where's your brother?" She raised and eyebrow and looked at me, asking me the same question with her eyes.

"He threw a fit and went home," Sora said the words with a smile, like the fact that Roxas had freaked out about something was just another fact of life (and it was, really).

"Oh, well that's too bad," my mom said, but she wasn't being sincere. She was happy he wasn't there. Oh, not in a malevolent way, but because he was the main trouble maker (aside from Axel, but I wouldn't even let anyone tell him where my apartment was, let alone _ever_ invite him over).

"Ms. LaSalle, can Demyx come over to my house tonight? Since summer's almost over and he has to type his essay anyway."

I looked at Sora, not sure where this had come from. There had been no talk of a sleep over, none whatsoever. But here he was, suggesting it to my mother in an eerily rehearsed sounding way. My mother looked at me, one eyebrow still raised. "I don't see why not. You'll have to be home by four tomorrow, though, Demyx."

I nodded and Sora grabbed my wrist to tug me into my room. "You should bring your music sheet things."

"O-Okay ..." I was feeling a little confused, and fast moving situations _always_ make that feeling worse. "Why?"

"I want you to play a song, but you'll have to write out the note things first, right?"

I groaned, he was wanting me to write out a song by listening to it. He did that, from time to time. And it always ended with us listening to the same song upwards of fifty times. Roxas usually ended up moping in the living room. And by the time I had all the notes written (correctly) no one wanted to hear the song again.

"Do I haaave to?" I wasn't above whining and pouting when I thought it might get me somewhere (something Zexion can attest to).

"You don't want to?" His bottom lip stuck out in his own, trademark pout, which completely trumped my own.

"Not really," I grumbled, shuffling my feet on the spot.

Sora shrugged, pout vaporizing. "Okay!"

I sighed, really glad that Sora was as easy going as he was and not one to argue. And, like I've already said, Sora is a bundle of happiness. One that is always there in one way or another, to make you feel that same level of happiness.

"Gonna bring your memory card?"

I shrugged, wondering if we'd get around to playing Play Station, though I figured it might be better safe than sorry. Since we really didn't have anything planned, seeing as how the entire night had been organized on an apparent whim.

"Sora, why did you want me to come over?"

He shrugged. "Like I told your mom, the summer is almost over, and we haven't really done much." He looked away with a sheepish grin.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing ..." He shuffled his feet a little, like I had, and his hands went behind his head again.

"Sora."

"Roxas invited Axel over. And you know how those two get."

I groaned again, this time sparing no dramatic flare. "So you want me to be there so I can get hurt too?"

Now, you see, when Axel and Roxas got together, even back then, something bad _always_ happened. Given that Axel was a pyromaniac, the damage usually included fire, melting, and/or a trip to the burn ward. (The latter example will be in this story, so don't just write it off as comedic prose!)

"I don't want you to get hurt! I just don't want to deal with them by myself."

I nodded a little. "Okay, but I'm _not_ bringing anything they could potentially use as tinder."

He grinned again. "S'pose that means you'll be going naked then?"

It was a harmless joke, but the blush spread across my face again all the same. "That's a way to go about it ... I suppose ..." I shook my head. "I'm _not _going naked. I'm just not going to bring any paper or anything like that."

He nodded and picked up a black cloth bag I used when I went to people's houses. He went to my drawer and opened it.

"Uhm ... Sora, I can do that," I snatched the bag from him and shoved clean underwear, a shirt, and pants into it. "Okay, all set, I think. We should go before it gets even darker."

His eyes drifted to my still open window. "Dude, you climbed out the window, didn't you?"

I smiled and laughed quietly. "It was pretty fun, actually."

"Why didn't you use the door?"

I shrugged. "I saw you guys coming and decided I just needed to get out as quickly as I could." I went to the window and closed it. "Probably just me being a drama queen again, right?"

He laughed quietly, thumbing at his nose. "Yeah, that's you, Demyx the _queen_."

"Hey!" I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "I can call myself a drama queen. But that doesn't mean you get to."

"That's not fair," he'd caught the pillow in mid-air and then shoved it onto my bed. "Let's just go, okay?"

I nodded and rolled my eyes. "C'mon," I left my room, followed closely by Sora.

"I'll see you around three tomorrow, kay mom?"

My mom nodded from the stove. "See you tomorrow, Demyx."

And that was our goodbye. There were never any 'I love yous' between use. Never any embraces or even endearing looks. We complemented each other, and tried to speak kindly, but that was the extent of our relationship.

So Sora and I left the apartment, me with my bag slung over one shoulder, and Sora walking ahead of me. And as we walked away, I couldn't help but look back over my shoulder at Zexion's closed apartment door.

And, gods, I don't know how I _missed _those feelings, even then when they were just starting to grow. I must have mistaken them for desired friendship. Because had I honestly understood what was going on, I think I would have never talked to him again. (You have to remember, I still assumed and thought I was straight. And the first _really_ acknowledged homosexual crush is always the hardest.)

"Y'know, I was thinking," Sora said. "We ought to wait until Roxas and Axel go to sleep tonight and do things to them."

"Things?" I asked, tearing my eyes off Zexion's door.

"Yeah, things. Like ... Shaving cream in their shoes, or ... Something."

"Who in your house uses shaving cream?"

He giggled, and rightly so. His father Leon, or Squall if you wanted to get technical and on his nerves, was one of those guys that would likely _never_ grow facial hair. But he wasn't exactly girly enough to shave his legs or anything either. (I really hope he _never _reads this, because he might kill me.)

And then there was their _other_ dad (who also wouldn't ever likely need shaving cream). Sora and Roxas were adopted when they were babies by Leon and Cloud, who are, in case you didn't assume, a very hidden couple (or they were at the time). They've been together for something like thirty years now, and if the States ever lifts its ban on gay marriage they'll definitely be one of the first couples in line.

(And this probably makes you wonder why exactly Zexion and my coming out later was such a big deal. Well, it's simple, really. The community at large didn't know about Leon and Cloud. After all, it had been their two best friends who naturally parented Sora and Roxas. And when Aerith and Zack's wills were discovered after their deaths, it was made apparent that they wanted their two friends to have their children. And so, the two 'roommates' adopted their children, as their friends had wanted. It was a cheap way of coming out but not really doing so, but they got there's later on.)

"Roxas wanted dad to buy him some because he's convinced he's starting to grow facial hair," he laughed again. (Cloud was 'dad' and Lean was 'Otousan.' Which is 'father' in Japanese. It's how they told the two apart; and since Roxas and Sora were both obsessed with Japan and the Japanese language, they started calling Leon 'Otousan.')

"Roxas does know that he'll _never _grow facial hair, right?"

Sora shrugged. "Dad said it was a puberty thing. And that Roxas wants to seem more grown up by pretending to shave."

I nodded a little, feeling only a slightly inclined to giggle at Roxas' need for masculinity. "Say, Sora. Have you noticed how much time Roxas and Axel spend together?"

"Yes, as have our parents. But they both _insist_ nothing is going on. Or ... Roxas does. Axel just sort of grins and agrees with him."

"What do you think?"

He shrugged. "I try not to."

We pondered that for the remainder of the short walk, not saying anything else until their house came into view.

To be completely honest with you, which is something I probably should have vowed to do from the very beginning. Even though we _knew_ that there was defiantly something _special_ about Leon and Cloud, we didn't know they were a couple. They're both secretive, if not reclusive, people by nature, and all of their love making occurred behind closed doors. And even though they taught their children tolerance and equality, we all got mixed messages from everywhere else.

We knew all about homosexuality. And we knew that, according to the Catholic belief system, it was a sin. And though none of us were by any means devout Catholics, you can only hear about fire and brimstone so many times before you start to fear it like the devout.

None of us would call ourselves 'homophobic.' None of us would even go so far as to say that we though homosexuality earned you a one way, all expense paid permanent vacation to hell. But we would say that we thought it _might_. And there was nothing Leon or Cloud could do to shake us of that notion. They knew that they could only sit back and do they're best to guide us along the right path.

Because they _couldn't_ come out to us, you see. They understood the repercussions of that action. They even tried to explain it to Zexion and myself years later when we struggled with our decision. But we didn't listen to their words of caution, but I'll get to that part of the story in due time.

Just like we saw something strange in Leon and Cloud, we _thought _we were seeing the beginning of something strange with Roxas and Axel. But we had no way of knowing. And no way to ask them. Because what were we to do? How were we to ask?

So we ignored it until we _couldn't _ignore it. But, by that time, hell was home and school. And I couldn't really focus on their relationship.

But all of that will come later. All the details of that future, disastrous relationship will assuredly be addressed. For now, I believe I was arriving at the point where our sleep over began. The sleepover that was certain to be destructive and sure to be dangerous.

I think that's a story for the next chapter, however.

* * *

**A/N: **.::.Looks worried.::. I'm feeling _very_ conflicted about this chapter. I don't really know why. Certainly enough happened, and it's over 5000 words. So, maybe (read, hopefully) I'm just worrying for no reason. Hopefully you guys will like this chapter. (And hopefully it answered the question that yes, this will be entirely first person.)

Also, I've decided that I'm just going to update this as I finish the chapters. So, I'd expect one every day or so, maybe two over the weekends. (Gods, I'll get this done quickly if I do that!)

Review if you loved/liked/hated it. I love hearing from people. (And wish me a happy 17th birthday! It was Wednesday, April 25th! (yesterday))


	3. Slumber Party Blues

**A/N:** Due to certain things, like, my birthday, crazy plans, and procuring the final Dark Tower book, I haven't update as often as I promised you I would. I'm really sorry it took so long and all that.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any other random references I make to things in today's society (bands, songs, movies, Bill Gates).

* * *

**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter Three: Slumber Party Blues**

Leon and Cloud were hidden somewhere by the time Sora and I got to their house. (They were probably naked somewhere; doing things two naked, adult males do together.) Loud music could be heard from the basement, which is where they made us go when we threatened to go nuclear. (And it was also where Roxas had chosen to nest.)

"I'm not sure I want to go down there …" Sora shot a nervous glance at the floor.

"They can't be doing anything worse than they've already done," I said. "Remember the 'ritualistic animal slaughter' phase they tried to go through?"

Sora shuddered visibly. Though there had been no _actual _animal sacrifices made to any heathen gods (Leon stepped in when the psychos actually procured a baby pig) it was still a subject best left in silence. "I dunno," he whispered, then seemed to glow as an idea hit him. "Let's call Riku!"

Ignoring how completely _random_ the idea was, I nodded and said, "When did he get home?"

Riku was one of Sora's closest friends, making him one of my own, and he and Sora were actually fairly inseparable most of the time. (They ended up together and it didn't surprise _anyone_.) But Riku had a lot of medical issues (and still does). He was born with a hole in his heart that the idiot doctors somehow missed until his teens, and some insane allergies (nuts, yeast, that sort of everyday thing.) These things contributed to him spending _a lot_ of time in the hospital. (This time, I believe, was because he got stung by a bee, _didn't_ have his epi-pen with him, and nearly died.) The health issues also gave him that pale complexion that he prided himself on so much. (He made pasty cool, really.)

Riku's health didn't stop him from prancing around like an idiot, however. Instead of watching what he ate, not overexerting himself, and watching for allergens he would rush into things perfectly sane, healthy people wouldn't do. He claims his fearlessness stems from the fact that he's _always _so close to death, and just doesn't fear it anymore.

I think he's just an idiot. (At this point Zexion wants to say something snide, but I refuse to type it for him. If he wants to tell you all something, he'll have to write a sequel, damn it!)

"I think he got back a couple days ago," he shrugged. "I dunno if his mom will let him out of the house, though."

"Probably not, seeing as how he almost _died _again and all," I smiled a little as he grabbed the phone and dialed Riku's number.

"Hi, can I talk to Riiiiiiku? This is Sora," one finger went to his mouth and he chewed on it while waiting. "Hey, Riku! How are you feeling? … Well, it's good you're not dead! … Don't joke that like! … Yeah, I know you think you're above death …" He laughed quietly, still chewing on his finger. "What are you doing tonight? … Think your mom would let you come over? There's no super allergy things anywhere, promise! … Awesome! So, you'll be here soon? … Okay, see you!" He hung up the phone and shot me a grin. "We have reinforcements on the way!"

I laughed and heard a crash from the basement, and then a scream, followed shortly by the sound of footsteps running down the stairs. "We might need it …"

Cloud and Lean ran into the kitchen, Cloud skidding and nearly tumbling over in his socked feet. They were both shirtless and sweat gleamed off their bodies. "What the _hell_?" Leon swore.

Sora and I pointed at the basement door as the music cut off and someone screamed again. It was Axel. Leon sighed and opened the door. "Someone better be bleeding!"

"There … is … a … giant … rat!" Axel's voice was higher than any of us had ever heard it or imagined hearing it. And Leon's eye was twitching in agitation.

"You're screaming over a fucking _rat_?" Color was rising in his cheeks (they'd been having sex, and he was pissed that he wasn't _still_ having sex.)

Cloud laid a hand on Leon's shoulder, face calm and totally serene. "Calm down," he said in his satiny smooth voice.

"Otousan!" Roxas' voice floated up the stairs. "Axel fainted and hit his head. He's bleeding!"

Leon twitched again. "You deal with it," he growled at Cloud. "I _can't _deal with this."

Cloud nodded and bypassed Leon to go down the stairs. Leon turned to look at us, a fierce glare stamped on his face (he glares more often than not, really.) "Is anyone _else_ showing up here tonight, Sora?"

Sora giggled and shuffled his feet a little. "Well, Riku's on his way …"

"No. More. Annoyances. No more screaming. No fire, no blood, no death. Got it?"

Leon can be very scary sometimes, especially when he's not getting what he wants. And what he wanted at the moment was sex. Cloud sex. And he _wasn't _getting it, and was thus _pissed_.

"Got it," we both said in unison.

"Good," Leon said, wringing his hands and peering down the steps. "How goes, Cloud?"

"Eh … Not too well, actually. Leon, we may need to call an ambulance."

Leon growled again and began down the stairs, taking three at a time. We exchanged panicked looks and ran after him. I jumped the last five or so steps and nearly face planted into the wall. I wheeled around, eyes widening when I saw Axel. He was laying on the floor, one hand on his forehead with blood oozing through his fingers. Apparently the rat had scared him enough to make him faint. In his ultimate and supreme grace, he'd hit his head on the corner of a coffee table Roxas had tried to use as a scarification podium. (Axel has forbidden us to ever speak of this incident, so I wonder how he'll respond if he reads this …)

Cloud was standing over Axel, trying to get him to move his hand. Roxas was demanding to know if Axel as going to die, _and _asking how the hell he wasn't unconscious. Leon stood by Roxas' phone, looking at it and probably wondering if he could possibly hide the body if he decided to let Axel bleed to death.

He, obviously, decided Axel's body would be harder to deal with than he felt he wanted to endure. And with a lightning quick motion he snatched the phone and dialed 911.

"Hello, I need an ambulance at 289 Nidesty Lane. …Yes, this is Leon. … I'm alright, can't say the same for The Idiot. … Yes, same one. … Okay, thanks." He clicked the phone off and growled yet again.

"Who answered?"

"Melody," Leon said, "She said to tell everyone hello. And that she wishes we'd not have to call again." His gaze rested on Roxas, who laughed nervously.

"This really wasn't _our _fault. We were sitting on the couch listening to music and … listening to music. When he saw a rat and freaked out."

At the time, I'm not sure any of us caught Roxas' brief stutter. They'd been on the couch listening to music and … listening to music? That seemed a little redundant at the time (and it still does). My personal guess (and I'm not the only one that thinks this) is that they were experimenting with their sexuality. (Axel can't remember the night because of the head injury, and Roxas claims post traumatic stress syndrome induced loss of memory in regards to the night. So, we'll likely never know _what_ they were really doing.)

"_Why_ is he afraid of a stupid _rat_?"

Axel tried to glower up at Leon, probably in indignation, but the look dissolved into a painful wince and he issued a small, pathetic whine. Leon seemed to take some consolation in this, because the glare on his face softened a little.

"Think we should move him upstairs?" Cloud had finally succeeded in pulling Axel's bloody hand away from his head and was pressing a dirty towel to the wound?

"No, he'll bleed everywhere," his eyes were locked onto Axel and his glare was intensifying again. "Demyx, Sora, go wait for the ambulance."

We nodded and went back upstairs, not needing to be told twice.

"Think Axel will die?" Sora seemed genuinely afraid that Axel might die.

"No, it doesn't seem that bad," we went through the house and sat on the porch steps. "But we'll probably get to go to the hospital."

He laughed quietly. "Riku'll be _thrilled_."

"Why will I be thrilled?" Riku was ambling up the driveway, and how we didn't see him, I'm not entirely sure. "And why do I detect an undercurrent of sarcasm in your voice?" He swept his white hair out of his face and behind his ear with a delicate flick of his wrist.

"Axel hit his head on Roxas' sacrificing slab," Sora said, smiling and clearly having to restrain himself from running to Riku to hug him. "He's sorta bleeding ... So Otousan called an ambulance."

Riku groaned quietly and sat beside Sora, patting him on the head as he did. "So, hospital trip then?"

Sora nodded and leaned against Riku, smiling. "Leon's pretty livid," I said, "As you might expect."

Riku nodded. "He's a pretty pissy person, really."

We all laughed, and just like that we were all happy and carefree again. That Axel was bleeding in the basement didn't reach us, and even if it had we couldn't be bothered by it. We were too busy laughing at a comment that wasn't really _that_ funny.

"Y'know," Riku said, "My mom didn't want me to come over."

"Well, you did almost die," I sent him a smirk, or, as close to one as I could manage, anyway.

"Oh, haha."

"Riku! Guess what?" Sora was bouncing again.

"Hmm?"

"Demyx has a new neighbor!"

I groaned, though I wasn't surprised. I knew the subject of Zexion would come up eventually. "Do we have to talk about him again? Haven't you tormented me enough for one lifetime?"

"Nope."

"Tell me about this neighbor. I'm interested to know why Demyx is being all mopey and dramatic, not that it's out of his character or anything."

"Well, he's English. And his hair is sort of purple-ish. And, personally, I think he's kinda snooty--"

"He's not snooty! He was perfectly cordial before you and your psychotic brother were loosed on him."

"We didn't _do_ anything though."

"Yes you did, you pissed him off."

"The ambulance is here," we didn't really hear Riku speak.

"Yeah, okay, but we didn't _mean_ to."

"You still did."

"Guys, the paramedics are coming this way."

"He's too touchy."

"You're too insensitive!"

"Yo! Guys!" We finally looked at him, eyes wide.

"What?!" We yelled in unison.

He pointed to the oncoming paramedics. "Ambulance."

Sora bounced to his feet and pointed towards the door. "He's in the basement."

The 'medic smiled at Sora and nodded. She carried a large first aid kit in one hand, and he partners followed with a stretcher.

"Axel ought to enjoy this attention," Riku said dryly, eyeing the ambulance with a look of mistrust.

"I dunno," Sora muttered, watching the paramedics disappear into the house. "He seems kinda out of it, even though he's awake."

"That's because it's physically impossible for that kid to stay unconscious for longer than a few minutes."

Riku had a point. Axel had hurt himself plenty of times. And he'd passed out half the times he'd done something seriously stupid. But he seemed to always be awake by the time the ambulance showed up. Part of his charm, I suppose.

Anyway, we opted against following the 'medics into the house and basement. The place was small enough with just people in there, let alone all the medical equipment that was probably being unloaded at that point. So we stayed outside and waited for the 'medics to bring Axel out and load him into the ambulance.

It didn't take them long, really. Then again, with Axel they could ignore many of the formal questions they usually had to ask. They all knew him and what they could or could not give him. When they brought him out, though, his eyes were closed and his face paler than I could remember it ever being. Scarlet had dripped onto his cheeks and probably into his hair, but it was the same color. (He hadn't looked that bad when we left the basement. And we're still not really sure how he deteriorated so quickly when he didn't seem to be hurt that badly. Though we have some speculations, most involving Leon and violence.)

They wheeled him to the ambulance and lifted the stretcher he was on into the back through open doors. One, then two 'medics got in the back with him, while the other climbed into the cabin to drive.

"We're going to follow," Cloud said from behind us, he was pulling a shirt on over his naked chest. "Apparently, his parents are in Europe, so we're working as they're medical proxy." His eyes landed on Riku. "Hi Riku, how're you?"

"Oh, not too bad, all things considered. Better than him, anyway," he jerked his head towards the departing ambulance.

Cloud nodded and passed us, laying a hand on Riku's shoulder as he did. Leon stalked out of the house after him, fully clothed but still scowling (I don't think it's possible for him to smile, though I've heard he's done it. Once.) He looked as if murder was on his mind. And if that was the case, those thoughts were almost certainly directed at Axel.

We followed them over to the little red Takuro Spirit and the three of us piled into the back. It was sort of crammed, but it didn't bother any of us. We were (and are) mentally close enough not to be bothered by such small matters as physical contact.

Sora sat in the middle, as he always did. By sitting there he guaranteed he'd be able to latch onto Riku and still be able to carry on easy conversation with Riku and I alike. (He _still_ sits in the middle, if he can rig it that way. And he probably always will.)

"Eh … Otousan … Where's Roxas?"

We all looked around then, and noticed for the first time that Roxas wasn't with us, Leon growled and hopped out of the car and sprinted up the walk and into the house. I'm not sure why Roxas was still in the house. I'm not sure why he didn't want to come with us. But when Leon eventually came out of the house, and Roxas piled on top of Sora and Riku, he had tears standing in his eyes. (Though he'll probably never admit it.)

"Ready?" Cloud turned in the passenger seat, his brow knitted and his gaze locked on Roxas.

"Yeah, just go already," Roxas wiped at his eyes a little and leaned his head against Sora.

Leon drove us to the hospital. And there's a funny reason behind that. The first time we had to go to the hospital, Leon wasn't home. When Cloud got behind the wheel he sort of freaked out (apparently stress does that to him sometimes) and drove to fast (we beat the god damned ambulance!). When later we told Leon about the near misses, he took Cloud's license away from him.

Though, Leon _did_ have a bad habit of drifting into the center and driving there. So, I'm not really sure we were a lot safer with him.

The drive was quiet, nigh silent. And I think most of that was simple because no one knew what to say. Leon was too busy glaring, Cloud is quiet by nature, and the four of us in the back were too afraid to carry on a conversation. (The rational part of our minds knew Axel would be fine. But that didn't stop us being afraid.)

We got to the hospital after the ambulance, blessedly. But that meant we had to deal with the incompetence and disorganization that was our local hospital. )This may not be fair to the hospital staff, but, really, how difficult is it to keep patient files in order? One wouldn't expect it to be too extraordinarily difficult.)

We went in with Cloud ahead of us. (He as the diplomat of the bunch. Given that Leon scared people, Riku was hiding behind Sora, who was more interested in vending machines than finding Axel, Roxas who was too busy glaring (and looking just as scary as Leon), and then there was me (you should know why _I'm_ not the designated speaker.)

Cloud walked to the receptionist's desk and leaned an arm on the high counter as he spoke. "Can you tell me where Axel Tuesti ended up?"

The pretty brunette behind the desk smiled and rustled through her paper for what seemed like an eternity. "He's in waiting room 1A," she said after what was probably only a minute or so but had felt much longer. "There's probably a doctor in there with him."

Cloud nodded and began to return the smile when Leon grabbed him by the upper arm and drug him around the desk, growling as he did, "We can find it on our own."

Leon continued to drag Cloud, who was quietly squawking at this point (something about how he was _not_ flirting with the brunette), in the direction of the Emergency Room's smaller clinical rooms.

The rooms were off in their own little corridor that stank of antiseptics and cleaning supplies. There wasn't the overwhelmingly _loud_ sound of machines like in the upstairs room, though. But even without their unnerving _whirr_ the place wasn't pleasant. Something about the meticulously sterile air and look of the hallway was almost more than I could stand.

Leon and Cloud disappeared into the first room on the left and the three of us followed after them (by then Riku was stuck talking to some nurse he knew from one of his many stays.)

Axel lay on the bed, wincing in a petulant way as a doctor leaned over him. "He's lucky," the white clad man said, moving his arms around in sewing motions on Axel's forehead. "He only needs five stitches, and none of his hair has to be shaved.

Axel whimpered, whether from the steel needle sewing his skin together (ew!) or from the though of having to shave any of his hair I don't know.

"He also has a mild concussion, but it's nothing to worry about," he pulled away from Axel and surveyed his work with a _hmm_ of approval. "A nurse will bring the discharge papers by in a few minutes."

And with that he turned and left the room, tossing his gloves into a biochemical waste basket as he did. (He greeted Riku happily on his way out, though Riku's response was less than heartfelt.)

Axel looked up at Riku as he walked into the room, made to offer him a two-fingered salute and hit his new stitches with a grimace. "Hey, Riku …" he muttered.

Riku smirked and returned the salute Axel failed. "Yo, Axel. What'd you do to yourself this time?"

Axel shrugged and closed his acid green eyes (he still looked pretty crappy, really). "If these jerks haven't explained it yet I'm not gonna."

Roxas sniggered, but managed to obtain most of his concerned expression. "He just doesn't want to re-live his humiliation. But, don't worry Axel, I'll be sure to tell everyone we know. Maybe even make a website."

Axel groaned but his eyes didn't open, the poor guy was tired, but Roxas didn't show any signs that that was going to stop him.

"And you know what? You deserve it, you really do. Because all you saw was a fuck--"

Roxas' mouth snapped shut, mid-word, when the nurse walked in. She was smiling in a prettily confused sort of way. (Zexion has just forbidden me from describing women as 'pretty' for the rest of the story. … What adjective am I going to use now? Stupid, jealous little baby …)

Anyway, the nurse stopped a little ways into the room and looked to Leon and Cloud. "Which one of you will be signing for him?"

Cloud nodded, "That would be me," he took the pink papers from her. "I know what to fill out."

She nodded and smiled at him. "Just bring that to the front desk when you're done," she said and walked out.

"I hate this place," Axel grumbled. "It's so _impersonal_."

"Hah," Riku's little outburst was mirthless. "Not if you're their favorite little allergy boy it isn't."

"Well, Riku, you're here like, every week."

Riku grumbled and waved a hand dismissively, his way of saying he didn't want to pursue that course of conversation any farther. "Anyway," he said, "You've certainly managed to make tonight interesting."

Axel laughed, half-heartedly it seemed, and said, "Glad to be of service, Riku."

By this time I was doing my usual thing of standing back and watching everyone else. I suppose this might seem a little creepy to some people, the whole, watching people thing. But, it's just the thing I've always done in social situations when I've felt like I wasn't really needed by those around me. (I know that's rarely _really_ true, but knowledge has never stopped me before.)

Cloud was off to one side, signing the release papers even as Leon leaned over him and watched with a critical eye. Roxas was sitting in the window sill, looking out over the darkening city. And Sora and Riku were still talking to Axel (I don't remember what exactly they were talking about).

"You missed something," Leon was pointing to something on the paper.

"No, Leon, _they_ fill that out."

"Since when?"

Cloud looked up at him with an inquisitorial eyebrow raise. "They _always_ have," he held out the pen to Leon who took it. "I'll be back in a minute."

Leon looked for a moment like he might argue the point. And he was probably thinking of Cloud's "tendency to flirt with attractive young women." (The more I recap this in my mind, the more I wonder how I didn't notice they were a couple, even then. I suppose I'm just _that_ unobservant. Then again, they had everyone else fooled as well.)

But he didn't argue with Cloud and he didn't try to follow him out of the room. He just watched him walk out of the room and then let his glare fall on and stick to Axel. And, gods! He looked so angry! So positively _pissed_ off. Axel had gotten hurt and the only emotion (the only _visible_ one anyway) he felt was anger. And all because, presumably, he wasn't still having sex. His anger was senseless, and I felt a small trickle of my own somewhere deep in my being.

"Yo, Demyx," Axel was hailing me, and the impatient scowl he wore gave me the feeling he'd said my name more than a few times.

"Huh?"

"What's your new neighbor like?"

I groaned, feeling like I couldn't escape the subject of Zexion. "Which one of them put you up to asking?"

He jerked his head towards Riku (and winced when he did, which I thought was poetic justice for antagonizing me). "He said you _loved_ to talk about the guy."

"Yeah, well, he _lied_."

"Oh, come on, I'm curious."

I looked at Riku, doing my best to glare fiercely at him. "I _hate_ you."

He chuckled, his lip turning up into a smirk. "I know you do."

"Why don't you like to talk about him? He an ass or something?"

"No!" My eyes darted to Axel's and froze there. "He's not an ass. Roxas and Sora might think he is, but that's just because _they're_ asses. He's really nice, so long as _you're_ not being an ass."

Axel raised an eyebrow and snickered. "Sure does get him worked up though. Hmm."

"What are you 'hmm-ing?'"

"Oh, nothing."

"Yeah … Bull crap."

"No, really. Nothing. It's just a sound."

I opened my mouth, ready with some clever retort I'm sure. But as I opened it Cloud came back into the room, pushing a wheel chair in front of him. And I sort of … Forgot that I was supposed to be arguing with Axel.

"Ready?" He asked Axel, who was eyeing the chair with disdain.

Axel swung his legs over the side of the bed and tugged the rubber 'needle' out of his arm (he pressed two fingers to the spot to keep the blood from squirting out.) Sora winced and retreated out of the room at the sight of this. It was something Axel always did, and running away was Sora's mandatory response.

"Get in the chair," Cloud nodded towards it but Axel didn't move.

"Do I have to?"

"Hospital policy, you know that."

"Yeah … But I'm fine, see?" He waved his arms about a little and turned in a quick and graceless pirouette that almost resulted in him falling backwards onto the bed.

"Uh, huh," Cloud sounded like someone who was speaking to indulge a senseless five year old, but the look he shot Leon was impatient.

Leon stepped up to the plate, looked at Axel, and pointed to the chair. "Get in the damn chair."

Axel squeaked, nodded, and quickly found his way into the chair (though he did begin to scowl and glare again as soon as Leon's back was turned.)

Cloud gripped the handles of the wheelchair and backed out of the room, all of us in tow. Axel wasn't complaining anymore; his eyes were closed, his head leaning against the back of the chair.

Roxas was at the back of our little caravan. He was walking with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his head bowed. I don't know why, but Roxas is prone to bouts of sever mood changes. They come on with no warning and it's always impossible to determine how long one might last.

I don't know what triggered this particular bad mood, but it was probably something about Axel.

Regardless, I hung back to try to get to the bottom of it. "Hey, Roxas, what's up?"

"Nothing," his voice was clipped, short.

I bit my bottom lips and pressed on. "Are you sure, you seem sorta … upset."

He looked up at me, crystal-clear blue eyes boring into me and squeezing my hearts. "I'm. Fine."

I don't know if you've ever been at the receiving end of a glare from someone with unusual eyes, but let me try to explain it to you. Just looking into their eyes is almost always hard but definitely mesmerizing. There's always some unnatural spark of light in them. But when eyes like that are twisted into a glare it actually _does_ hurt you.

Maybe it's something about eyes that beautiful having to feel so much of a destructive emotion (because anger is horrible, second in irrationality only to love). Or maybe it's just because the eyes are so clear, so shining and so beautifully iridescent that the emotion bleeds through too perfectly, too horribly.

Regardless, suffice it to say that it isn't pleasant. And I'm no good at dealing with anything intense for very long. So I counted my losses and retreated to my previous spot beside Riku and Sora.

"He glared at you, didn't he?" A smirk was on Riku's lips (isn't there _always_ a smirk there?)

"What makes you think that?"

"Your eyes are all … Wibbley," Sora was smiling, that genuinely innocent smile only he could _really_ pull off.

I blinked. "Wibbley?"

"Yeah, y'know, they're al … Squishy looking."

Riku slung an arm around Sora's shoulder in what I thought was a playful manner. "Hush, idiot," he said, that nearly ever-present smirk still stamped on his face.

Sora smiled and leaned against Riku as they walked and neither said anything else. (Gods, they were dating even then, as I was just told. And they weren't exactly _hiding_ it, were they? Yet I didn't notice …)

The rest of the walk (ride) back to the little Takuro Spirit was silent. I don't claim to know the thoughts of others, not even when I write this, but my thoughts were on Zexion. Of the way his hair seemed to meld perfectly to his face and how it was that gentle shade of unnatural periwinkle that somehow looked so _perfect_ on him.

Okay, so those weren't my _exact_ thoughts. I hadn't yet begun to think of him in such a decidedly romantic way. But the thoughts I had were definitely endearing, definitely soft and longing to be nourished and let grow.

Yeah … I sure nourished them, all right.

The ride back to Sora and Roxas' was cramped. Axel, who would have normally been sat upon, lay sprawled atop us (as was Roxas). Which left Sora, Riku, and myself feeling very squashed the entire way back (not that it's a long drive, really. Only a few minutes with the way Leon drives.)

Once we were back we piled out of the backseat as quickly as we could. Cloud and Leon went inside ahead of us, leaving us in the drive way.

"Well," Axel said, "What now?"

I looked at him, blinking as he pulled out a bright red lighter and started playing with it.

"I mean, I dunno about you guys, but I'm bored."

I gaped (my expression pretty much mirroring Sora's). "You can't be serious! You just got back from the hospital!"

"Relax, spazzoid," the lighter disappeared into the dark fold of his pocket from whence it had came. "I'm beat, honestly," he didn't say anything else, he just turned and walked into the house. Roxas followed.

Sora yawned. "It's not late … But, I'm sorta tired too."

Riku ruffled his hair with a soft smile that was very unlike his trademark smirk. "Let's go to bed then."

Sora nodded enthusiastically, his smile impossibly bright. "Okay!"

That said, we went into the house, into Sora's room, and fell asleep quickly. Sora and Riku on Sora's bed, and me on the small futon-like couch along one wall.

And my dream that night was shrouded in a periwinkle haze …

* * *

**A/N: **Finally! Gods! Sorry it took so long! I hit a patch of writer's block along the road, but I beat that today (yesterday by the time this is posted. Gods cuss not having internet at home!) I'll try my hardest to update this again soon, but this weekend is Acen '07, so don't be too expectant of an update before next week, kay?

But the next chapter will have some more plot to it, instead of the silliness that seemed to fill this chapter. And I may even start with Demyx's 'periwinkle hazed' dream. .::.shrugs.::.

Anyway. Review, kay? It makes me happy and motivated me to get off my bum . and write!


	4. Tea Party Hysterics

**A/N: **I had fun with the beginning of this chapter. Demyx's dream was just … Fun to write. And, I hope it's fun to read. . Anyway, I don't really have anything to say about this chapter. Other than that there will be more plot, kay? (Oh, one thing. The dream is 3rd person omniscient. It just sounded better. I dunno why Demyx decided to write just that part like that though. I don't control him … Really …)

I'm really, really sorry this took so long! I went to Acen one weekend. And then prom was the weekend after that and this last weekend I was either at someone's house or someone was at mine. Gah! But, hey, it's summer now! So, I should be able to update the way I originally intended!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Kingdom Hearts or anything else in this fic, kay?

**Warning: **There is a mild lemon in this chapter. It's between two boys. I don't feel I should have to tell you this, but, I will anyway. If you don't like it, don't go any further.

* * *

**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter Four: Tea Part Hysterics**

_There were periwinkle shades drawn over the lamp, dousing the room in a strange, tinted hue. The room was small and sparsely furnished, with only a four poster bed and a light purple (periwinkle) canopy draped over it. The thin fabric drug along the ground, resting there in wispy curls of soft, translucent fabric._

_Demyx laid on the bed, limbs sprawled to cover it and his ocean blue eyes closed against the room. He moved a little, head tossing to one side and blond hair trailing after it. Some sound had cut through the room, a faint _click_, like a door coming unlatched. _

_The door (painted a deep purple) opened slowly, creaking eerily on its hinges. Through the barely open door slipped in a hooded figure. The figure made a bee-line for the bed and crawled onto it and up towards Demyx_

_Demyx's eyes shot open just as soft lips pressed against his own. His first reaction was to pull away from the kiss, but a millisecond after the thought of pulling away he was leaning into the unforeseen kiss._

_The stranger tasted of far away tea and peppermint, a sweetly minty taste that tickled Demyx as a foreign tongue looped and danced with his own. He could smell cloves on the stranger, cloves and a sweet-smelling shampoo as periwinkle hair fell out of the hood and onto Demyx's face._

_The stranger (Zexion) rubbed himself against Demyx's groin, their steadily growing erections sliding against each other and producing sweet, sweet friction. _

_Demyx's back arched when the stranger's (Zexion's) hand snaked down into his pants and gripped his erection in a tight embrace. The stranger (Zexion) pulled away and out of the kiss and slid down the bed, taking Demyx's pajama pants with him as he did._

_He caressed Demyx lightly and kissed him, taking him into his mouth with the skill of a veteran or dream apparition. He ran his tongue along Demyx, licking and sucking and pumping enthusiastically._

_Demyx moaned quietly, a stranger to the feelings the stranger (Zexion) was producing. Pleasure rippled through him like tiny shocks of electricity. They pulsed through his body, centering on his erection and on the motions of the stranger (Zexion). _

_He felt pleasure bubbling under his skin, gnawing away at his reserve and self control. Something underneath him started to bend as the stranger (Zexion) sped up his motions. His will to hold off was bending, bending … Breaking._

* * *

You can imagine the mess when I woke up (and you can probably imagine the quiet amusement Zexion found in that story). And, if you can imagine the mess, you can imagine the clean up, and the changing pants (I was lucky everyone else was still asleep).

It was about seven-thirty in the morning, and I was completely awake. Part of me didn't want to chance going back to sleep because of what might happen, because I might have another dream. And I'd only brought one change of pants.

So I wandered into the kitchen and started going through their refrigerator, looking for anything easily edible. The only problem was that there were three irresponsible people living in the house, and the fourth was prone to bouts of emotional detachment (okay, actually, Squall and Cloud are _both_ prone to those bouts); and so there wasn't usually any food.

Knowing this, I settled for cereal. The milk hadn't yet reached its expiration date and cereal takes forever to really go _bad_. So I sat down at the bar with a box of Fruity Pebbles, a bowl and a spoon, and the milk.

My mind kept darting back to the dream, and every time it did I'd feel a sense of heat and constriction growing in my groin. And every time my mind would go back to the dream I'd dismiss the feeling and focus on the stranger (Zexion).

I hadn't seen enough of him to know it was Zexion (I figured this out a tick later). And the only detail I could remember besides the pleasure and the act was one word, one color, flashing in my mind; _periwinkle._ The dream seemed to _be_ periwinkle. The person seemed to _be_ periwinkle. And that color made me think of Zexion's wonderfully strange hair.

It was then that I put two and two together and got four instead of whatever the hell I'd been getting. I knew then that I'd had a sex dream about some guy I'd just met. Some _guy_ had dove between my legs and ushered me to a climax (even it _was_ a dream guy).

I didn't consider myself gay, and the dream didn't immediately change that sense of self. But it did make me question my sexuality. It did make me wonder if maybe, just maybe I was … I don't know, bisexual or something (but I didn't want to believe even that).

I laid my head on the counter, beside the cereal stuffs, and thumped it there a couple times. I think I was trying to knock some sense of epiphany into me. But, of course, it didn't work. Because that would have just been too damn convenient.

"Demyx?" A sleepy voice cut through the kitchen and I yelped. "What's up?"

I looked up and saw Sora, standing at the kitchen doorway with a tired smile on his face. "Huh?"

He laughed quietly and came over to sit by me. "Why're you awake?"

I shrugged. "Had a … Strange dream."

"What was it about?"

I looked away from him and his startling eyes and poured a bowl of cereal. "I don't really remember .. I just … know it was weird."

He nodded and hopped off the stool. He went across the kitchen and got a bowl and spoon. "That sucks," he yawned again as he re-took his seat beside me.

"Yeah …" I poured some mild and cereal into his bowl. "Why aren't you asleep?"

He shrugged. "Riku kicked me and woke me up."

"He do that a lot?"

"Nah," he dipped his spoon into his cereal and stirred it. "Only when he isn't sleeping well, I guess."

I nodded, stirring my own cereal and spooning some of it into my mouth. "You know a lot about him, don't you?"

He laughed, a little bit of milk bubbling out of his mouth. "Yeah. I guess I do."

I looked at him, watched him eat his cereal in that slow, thoughtful way. It was strange, the way he seemed to do everything with childish, carefree abandon. But the way he usually ate seemed to be anything but carefree. It seemed that he was lost somewhere, inside his own mind. Maybe held captive by all the problems everyone always tells him.

Or maybe it was me that was always lost somewhere inside myself. Elaborating stories about my friends from within my prison walls.

"Hey, Demyx, you're staring."

"Oh, sorry …" I stared down at my cereal and pushed the remains away. "I think I'm gonna go home soon."

"Why?" His head tilted to the side a little with the question.

I shrugged. "Dunno. Just feel like going home I guess."

He nodded. "If you wait a little while, I bet Cloud would drive you when he goes to work."

Flashes of Cloud and I on his motorcycle streamed in my mind. And I could almost _feel_ the terror again. "Uhm … No, that's okay."

He shrugged and tipped the bowl of pale pink milk towards his mouth. "When are you leaving?" He asked, milk spilling down his chin as he did.

"Now, I think …" I hopped off the stool and took my bowl to the sink. "Sorry to leave so early …"

"Nah, s'okay. You want to leave before everyone else gets up and teases you about Zexion more, right?"

I blushed and averted my eyes. "Well, there's nothing to tease about …"

"Then why would they tease you?"

"Sora! You were _helping_ them yesterday!"

"I was?" He shot me an innocent smile that almost made me forget he was one of the previous day's antagonists.

"Yeah, Sora, you were."

"Oh, heh," he rubbed the back of his head, still smiling sweetly.

I groaned. "You're more even than you know."

"I am?" And again, that smile made me doubt myself.

"I'll see you later, okay Sora?"

"Yeah. Bye, Dem!"

I waved and left him in the kitchen to go fetch my things. Riku was still asleep (thankfully), and all my clothes and what not were still piled in the corner where I'd left them. All I had to do was grab them and flee the room.

I skittered back downstairs and out the front door without saying anything else to Sora.

The sun was low in the sky, and deep shadows were still blanketing everything. It gave the street a sort of dark, ethereal look that I liked to walk through (I don't anymore, and you'll see why later on).

As I got closer to my apartment complex I became aware that someone was sitting on the steps. Someone that seemed, from a distance, to have soft periwinkle hair.

Alarm raced through my body when I knew it was Zexion. The dream came rushing back at me and I felt my cheeks redden even though he wasn't close enough to see yet.

I didn't want to see him, not then. I wanted to go up to my room and sleep more (hopefully without dreaming). I wanted a chance to rest my mind and _stop_ thinking about him.

Because the dream took a toll on me. A bigger one than I really wanted to admit. And the more I tried to move away from it, the more I questioned _myself_.

Have you ever questioned your life? I mean, _seriously_ questioned your life? Because I can tell you, looking into yourself and seriously questioning yourself is one of the worst feelings in the world. It makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you're not _worth_ anything. Because something about you might be wrong. Something about you might not be the way you thought it was.

I hope you never have to question yourself. I really, really do. Because it isn't _fair_ to have to question the way you live your life. It isn't _fair_ to be confused.

But, it happens. And it was happening to me then. And it got worse when Zexion saw me, stood, and started towards me.

"Morning," he said with his pretty accent and a wave of his hand. "You're up early."

I tried my best _not_ to blush, but I think I failed. "I don't sleep well at Sora's …"

He nodded, arms crossed over his chest. There were goose bumps on his arms. I could see them. "I'll see you later, Demyx."

He turned towards his apartment and I stood there, gaping. It almost seemed like he had been _waiting_ on me. But that wasn't possible … Right?

"Hey, Zexion …"

He paused and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Never mind … I'll see you later …"

He nodded and disappeared into his apartment.

I stood where I was and stared at his door for what seemed like an eternity. I don't think anything went through my head during those few moments. I was just trying to get a reign on my strangely surging emotions.

And I remember how wonderfully _strange_ it all felt. To be so confused by the way he looked at me. And to know that my own eyes must be fixed in a stupid stare. I knew I must look ridiculously dumb to him. But it was still wonderful. Because he didn't ignore me, like he could have done. He _talked_ to me like I was his equal, when I was sure I wasn't.

I walked up the stairs and to my apartment without realizing I was doing it. My feet were just moving on their own. And by the time I made it into my room I was tired. Tired enough to fall onto my bed and fall instantly to sleep.

* * *

I don't remember what woke me up. Whether or not it was my mom coming in to tell me I needed to get up and shower (this memory could be a dream), or maybe I woke myself up. Regardless, I woke up again around noon and rolled out of bed with a yawn.

Our bathroom was small, and painted a hideous shade of lavender (gods, it seems everything in my life revolves around a similar color!). But the paint wasn't on my mind as I pulled off my clothes and stepped into the shower.

The water was warm and as it rolled over me the dream crept back into my senses. I saw the stranger (Zexion) climb into my bed and slide down my stomach, trailing my pants with him. And I felt him lightly kiss me before …

"Oh, god …" I groaned, staring down ay myself. "This is ridiculous …"

I twisted the water over into the blue and I regretted it almost instantly. My _issue_ was solved, and quickly, but the cold hit me and took my breath away.

It didn't take long for me to turn the water back into the red.

And with the return of the warmth came the return of my _issue_. And I decided there wasn't any point fighting it. There was no point trying to make it just disappear. And so what if I was thinking about a guy? So what if I barely knew the guy in question? At that moment none of that mattered. I was back in the dream again, only this time his mouth was my hand.

It was the first time I'd masturbated (I'd tried before, but it never worked). And in seconds my pleasure mounted and ran down my legs in a milky stream.

I looked at my hand, glistening with water and my own opaque addition. A desire to taste myself flooded me then, I just wanted to touch my fingers to my lips and lick myself off.

But I didn't. I stood under the stream of warm water and stared at my fingers. I wanted to lick myself off, yes, but at the same time the realization of what I was doing sank in.

I'd been thinking about Zexion when I'd masturbated. His body had melded into mine in my fantasy. And I wasn't looking at my own orgasm when I saw my dripping fingers.

What I saw was an extension of Zexion's pleasure. Brought about by my hand and my feelings.

Groaning, I held my hand under the water and watched everything wash down my arm and down the drain. Watching it disappear left me with an empty feeling. I wanted the pretty images back. The delicate fantasy staring Zexion and I.

I squirted shampoo into my palm, thinking for a moment that it looked too much like the end of my dream. I worked it into my uneven hair and rinsed it without thinking too much about it's appearance.

My thoughts were dominated by Zexion. It seemed that now that I'd decided to think about him (_really_ think about him) it was all I _could_ do. I didn't think it was a terrible thing that I'd thought about him while touching myself. And I didn't think it was that bad that I obviously liked him.

I was naïve, really. Unbearably and painfully naïve. And, gods, I wish I could revert to that mindset from time to time. Use it as an escape the way Sora does with his own naïveté. But I don't have the ability to do that. I can't ignore things or sugar coat things the way I used to be able to do. Even though I often wish I could.

And that shower was just a precursor to things to come. It was just a preview of the many other times I'd stand there and do the exact same thing.

But I wasn't thinking like that when I climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. I wasn't thinking about actually liking Zexion when I dried myself off and put on clean clothes.

Why would I have been?

My mom attacked me when I went into the living room with my sack of dirty clothes. I can't remember everything she said, but I do remember it started with the dirty clothes and ended with the trash.

So I did a lot of chores before the tea party (it's how I've always thought of Zexion's 'tea time'). But I didn't complain about any of it, because I liked helping my mother. She did so much to try to make me happy, and so I felt it was the least I could do.

But eventually chores do get irritating. And by the time three o'clock rolled around I was exhausted and thoroughly _done_ with house work.

I rolled the vacuum cleaner into the closet and ran into my room before my mom could dictate another cleaning endeavor.

I don't know if I've said this before or not, but my room was my sanctuary. It was the one room in the apartment that my mother never tried to reign over. If it got dirty enough, she might tell me I ought to clean it, but she _never_ gave me an outright order in regards to my room or anything in it. (aside from clothes).

And it was always pretty much messy, but not so much then, because I had been in good spirits. The one part of my room that was always clean, however, was my bed. IT was always made (when I wasn't under the blankets, of course), and it was there that I flopped.

I closed my eyes and smiled at the darkness behind them. And the calmness all around me. I wasn't thinking about anything other than that calmness, and relaxation.

I must have drifted off to sleep. Because when my mom woke me up she was giggling about being late to the tea party. And when I heard her it occurred to me that I shouldn't _want_ to be late. After all, being late would make Zexion and his mother think that I was incapable of being on time. Even when they lived right beneath me!

And so when I looked at the clock and saw it said 3:55 I … Well, I panicked. I shot off the bed and ran to the bathroom. Before the mirror I yanked on my clothes and smoothed them out as best I could before running my fingers through my hair.

"Why are you in such a rush?" She was in the doorway, watching me with a raised eyebrow. "I thought we meant to be late?"

"Well … Yeah. But … What's the point in that?" I glanced at myself in the mirror and stifled a groan. My hair was falling in every direction, just as unkempt as it always was. But my clothes looked alright, at the very least. They sort of fit me and weren't too wrinkled.

"What's come over you?" Her accent thickened. It was almost an almost imperceptible change, but it was there. And it signified confusion and annoyance.

I smiled. "It's nothing. I just think it would be a little rude, don't you?"

She shrugged and disappeared from my view. "Meet me outside."

I sighed heavily and took one last glance at myself before jogging off after her.

She was waiting for me on the porch. And when she looked at me she fixed me with a curious look that seemed to be laced with suspicion. I don't know what I thought at the time, but I shot her the most falsely goofy grin I could muster and bolted down the stairs.

Fear filled me as I approached the door, and I didn't immediately knock. But I knew that it would look strange if I just stood there. So I swallowed as much of my fear and nervousness as I could and knocked three times, just as my mother walked up beside me.

It seemed like it took them forever to come to the door, but it can't have been more than a minute. And it was Zexion's mother, Larxene, that greeted us with an outstretched hand and crisp accent.

"'Ello," she said and my mother and her shook hands. "My name is Larxene."

"I'm Elene LaSalle," she was purposefully making her accent thicker than usual, and I can only imagine why.

Larxene inclined her head, ever so slightly, and turned to me. "I remember you. Demyx, correct?"

I nodded and she didn't offer me her hand. I'm not sure that she liked me, though later that opinion changed.

"Come in," she held the door open for us with an extended arm. "Zexion, our guests are here."

Something in my heart compressed a little at the sound of Demyx's name. I knew it would get worse, and probably unbearable, when I saw him and actually heard _him_. But I didn't want to think about that.

Larxene red us into the living room and my mother and I sat on the couch and watched her sit on one of two recliners.

We sat in silence for a few minutes and then Zexion came in with a tray of tea cups and what not. He sat it on the table in front of my mom and I. And his eyes were on me the entire time.

The feeling of constriction got a hundred times worse when I saw him, just like I knew it would. And he kept his eyes locked on mine when he poured my tea and handed it to me. It was almost more than I could handle!

He poured for us all and hen sat down in the empty recliner. When he did the silence was broken and our mother's started talking about something.

I don't know what they were talking about. My mind was lost somewhere in a world of hazy periwinkle light.

Zexion's gaze was too much for me to meet. But when I averted my eyes to my cup I saw not a reflection of myself, but a reflection of him.

His face was looking back up at me from the shimmering surface with a faint smile. But something in it was scaring me away from my comfort zone. Because it was boring into me and becoming more than I could take …

And in a moment of panic I stood and ran out of the room. According to Zexion they all just sat there for a moment or two before finally looking at each other and silently asking the same question.

Zexion spoke first, he told me. "I'll go see what that was about."

I don't know what else happened in that apartment. And by the time Zexion left his apartment I was already hiding in my room, under my blankets.

I figured it was over. That he and his mother would think I was insane and never want to have anything to do with me again. So I curled up into a tight little ball and closed my eyes.

Even though I thought I'd completely screwed everything up, I was _still_ thinking about how lovely Zexion's hair was; and how eloquent his words sounded because of his lilting accent. Everything about him seemed to be incomprehensibly beautiful and regal.

But tt was his accent I was really focusing on when he came into my room, and when he spoke it took me a minute to realize that he was actually _there_.

"Are you alright?" He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe.

I sat up slowly and looked at him. There were tears in my eyes, I could feel them, and I willed them away. I didn't want him to see me cry. That was the _last_ thing I wanted him to see. Because I didn't even know _why_ I was even on the verge of tears.

"I'm fine."

"I think you scared our mothers."

"Sorry …"

"Why'd you run away?"

I shrugged and looked away from him. I felt that if I looked into his eyes I might tell him _exactly_ why I ran away; because I _loved_ him, dammit all, I loved him. As irrational as my feelings were, they were there, and there was nothing I could do about them.

"You don't know?" I could feel his eyes boring into me, pulling my gaze towards him. "Or you don't want to tell?"

My eyes snapped onto his, and I felt despair more pure than any I'd ever known. "How can you know that? How can you be no older than me but way more insightful?"

He brushed the hair out of his eyes, though it fell back a moment later. "It's not so much insight as it is experience."

"What experience could you possibly have?"

"More than you might think." He smiled again; the same smirk-ie smile. "And you seem to, at least, possess some amount of intuition."

"Oh?" I was confused; he was confusing me, making my mind swirl.

"You didn't believe me when I told you I'm your age."

"So you're not then?"

"Do I look thirteen?"

That pushed me over the edge. My tears started leaking out of my eyes and I felt like I'd been betrayed. Something in the simple fact that he really _was_ older than me felt like a betrayal. And I know I have no right to have felt that way. And I don't know what was so bad about him just playing with me like that, because it wasn't that big of a deal, not really. So don't ask me why I was feeling that sense of betrayal, because I don't know. I didn't then and I don't now.

But something in my tears must have touched him. Because he walked over to my bed and sat by me; he hesitated for a moment and then I felt his arm slip around my shoulder and he tug me close. It felt good to be close to him, even though I secretly thought it shouldn't.

"Some of my friends back home asked me to play with a local by pulling some sort of prank on them. Could have been anyone and it could have been any prank. But you were the first person I saw."

"That doesn't make any sense …"

I looked up at him and I must have looked downright pathetic. What with the tears slipping down my face. I must have looked like a little child, and he looked like the perfect English gentleman.

He nodded and wiped a tear from my face. "Yeah, I know. But, you want to know the truth?"

"About how old you are?"

He laughed quietly, and I loved the sound! It dried my tears and brought a weak smile to my face. "I'm 16, but that wasn't what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"I meant to ask if you wanted the truth behind why I tricked you. But, I should ask if you want the _whole_ story, because my friends really did tell me to mess with someone."

I nodded. "Okay, I want to know."

He stood and walked to the door. He paused there and looked back at me, smiling that wonderfully cocky smile I was starting to _need_ to see.

"You're adorable when you're all worked up. And even ore so when you're confused. So, that's why I decided to trick you." He shrugged and turned around, facing out the door. "Don't ask me why I think that, I just do."

I sat there, gaping at him. My mind couldn't process what he's said. Because I just couldn't believe it. It meant to me that he thought of me as more than just a silly little kid that kept doing insane and irrational things. It meant to me that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so wrong that I was thinking about him as much as I was. And maybe I would be able to tell him.

But that was a pretty big maybe.

And he left me like that, confused and with wet cheeks. He left me with a silent wave. And all I knew for sure was that I was hopelessly in love.

* * *

**A/N:** You know, I really think someone didn't want me to post this chapter. Because I have had a ridiculously trial ridden time in regards to this chapter. First, I was really busy. Then I was in the throws of caffeine withdrawal. And then I left the proper notebook at the home and had to re-write ½ the bloody thing.

So, yeah. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

(If you review, it prompts me to write. Seriously. .)


	5. Department Store Mania

**A/N: **I'm very surprised with myself. I just updated yesterday and I'm already working on the fifth chapter. Mayhap I've finally broken through my little bit of procrastination (okay … I have procrastination issues … I'll admit it …)

Also, real quick. Anyone who's wondering if there were extra ulterior motives behind Zexion's prank. I'll tell you this much; yes, yes there was. But it'll be a while before it comes into play.

Anyway, I just want to thank everyone who's reviewed this fic. I don't think you know how much it really spurs me on and makes me want to write more! So, if you're reviewed I thank you! You're words mean a lot to me!

* * *

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Started on: June 3, 2007

Finished on: June 11, 2007

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**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter Five: Department Store Mania  
**

I don't know how long I sat there, replaying the scene in my mind. Over and over again I heard Zexion call me adorable. And each time I heard it, it became more unbelievable but more wonderful.

My mother came into my room at some point. She sat beside me and I think she just looked at me. And even though I knew she was there, I didn't look at her or acknowledge her in any way. I know that it was mean to do that, because she must have been concerned about me, given the way I'd run out of the tea party. But I think I must have had some sort of mental breakdown at that point. So much had happened and so much had been revealed and I just sort of crumbled.

The same thoughts kept running through my head. Thoughts about how quick I was to fall in love, and how ridiculous that was. Thoughts about how to keep my mother from finding out (and Gods know I wasn't doing a terrific job of that). I was thinking about how I was _not_ gay. But most of all I was thinking about what to tell my friends.

I had, ultimately, two choices; I could tell them everything, or I could fabricate events at the tea party and tell them those. Both choices had pros and cons, but I didn't really want to employ either.

What I really wanted to do was tell them absolutely nothing. But that wasn't really a choice I had. Because there was no way I was going to be able to get away with giving Roxas no details. The others might be content with just pouting a bit, but not Roxas. Oh, no, not Roxas.

Roxas would sit and glower and come up with his own destructive little plan to get the truth. A plan that would most likely entail running to Zexion's house to harass him until he told him everything he wanted to know.

And, trust me, I did _not_ want that to happen.

I think I ultimately decided on just avoiding my friends. There wasn't much time left before school started again, and maybe I could make myself appear too busy to partake in their company. I doubted it, but it was always a possibility and I was very nearly willing to try anything to avoid a confrontation.

By the time I came to this conclusion, my mother wasn't in my room anymore. So I got up and went to find her. And when I found her she was sitting in the living room with a bottle of beer and watching tv.

"Mom … Sorry about today …"

She glanced up at me from the tv and it was the first time I ever noticed how old she looked. There were harsh lines around her eyes and mouth, and there were deep creases on her forehead. Certainly I hadn't caused those lines … Had I?

"What happened with you?"

I shrugged and tried to smile at her, but I don't think it came across as pure and true as I wanted it to. I think it fell to shambled before ever reaching her. "I dunno. I just sort of freaked out …"

"Did it have anything to do with Zexion?" She raised an eyebrow and took a long drink from the bottle. "He was staring at you."

I shook my head. "No … It was just … I really don't know, mom …"

She nodded a little and sat down the bottle. "I have to go to work. Clean up a little while I'm gone?"

I nodded and watched her stand and walk into her room. It hurt like hell that I couldn't tell her anything I was feeling. Because I was so confused and so lost and all I really wanted was someone to talk to. Someone I could confide in and someone that could give me advice. But I couldn't go to her for that. I couldn't go to my own mother for one of the most basic things a child ever needed; help.

But at least she left me with a legitimate excuse as to why I couldn't go hang out with anyone. I had to clean the apartment, that's what she'd essentially said. And I'd never felt so thankful to have meaningless chores to occupy my time with before.

So I set out to start cleaning. And as soon as I did I realized it wasn't going to take me nearly as long as I'd hoped it would. Somehow I'd forgotten that she'd asked me to do the same sort of chores earlier, and when I'd done it I'd been fairly thorough.

The only real mess was in the kitchen. There were dirty dishes in the sink and a pot left on the stove. Unfortunately these things didn't take long at all for me to dispatch. The dishes took maybe ten minutes, and it was an easy thing to wipe down the stove and counter tops with Windex™. And when I felt everything was clean to a point of being almost _too_ clean I stopped and wandered back into the living room to plop down on the recliner.

My mother was already gone by the time I had finished cleaning. And that gave me no one to talk to or entertain myself with. (Also, I had no one to make up chores for me to do.) Not to mention the fact that I get bored extremely easily. And so that I had nothing to do but try to find something to watch on tv really bugged me.

I also don't sit still well, and usually I can't sit in one place for more than a few minutes before I have to get up and do something else. Yet, despite that knowledge, I snatched up the remote and started flipping through channels.

I hadn't even gone through the channels once when the phone rang.

The irritating thing about our phone was that we didn't have caller ID. And because of that, I was never allowed to ignore the phone when it rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dem!"

I had to stifle the groan that bubbled up in my throat. "Hey, Sora."

"You gonna go get school stuff with us? You can bring Zexion with you!"

"Crap!" I slapped my hand to my forehead. "I forgot to remind my mom to give me money!"

There was a pause, during which I could almost hear his mind formulating a plan. "Come with us anyway," he said. "We'll buy your stuff and you can pay us back later."

"Sora, I--"

"Nuh, uh. No arguing, kay? We'll be over soon, so be ready! And don't forget to snag Zexion!"

He hung up before I could get another word in. And I found myself wondering, not for the first time, how I'd managed to find friends like I had.

My musing didn't last long, however. Because Sora had said they'd be over soon, which meant I could expect the full group in as little as five minutes. And that meant I had to make a decision about Zexion.

My first idea was that I ought to just tell them he'd been too busy to go with us. But I realized that Roxas wasn't likely to accept that as an answer. And so, with the picture of Roxas further harassing an unsuspecting Zexion into joining us, I went downstairs and knocked on his door.

I don't know what I expected to feel when I saw him. But if I thought for one moment the strangling emotions of earlier that day wouldn't return I was a fool. AS soon as I saw him my chest felt constricted again and I wanted to cry because of his loveliness. (And because he'd lied to me and was still lovely!)

"Demyx," his voice was scarcely above a whisper. "I didn't expect to see you again for a while."

I had to focus on something or I would have melted in that voice, and so I locked eyes with him before speaking. "Uhm … My friends and I are going to go get school stuff … Do you want to come?"

I don't know what I expected from him, certainly it wasn't the shrugging acquiescence that I received. I don't now why I thought he'd say no, because he obviously didn't hate me. And, actually, I was starting to think that he _liked_ me. And maybe, just maybe, it was the same way I liked him. (But I doubted it.)

"Are you going now?" I nodded and he disappeared into the apartment for a moment and I heart mumbled bits of he and his mother's conversation. He returned a moment later wearing a form fitting jacked that double-buttoned the entire way down.

He looked good… _Really_ good …

"Ready?"

"Uh … No. Some of my friends are actually gonna meet us …"

He nodded and leaned against the wall. IT was almost more than I could do to watch him lean against something so dirty! I didn't want to see any of the dirt come off on him! It seemed a crime against him.

"You're staring," he said with a soft smile.

"I am?"

He nodded his head towards the road and mine followed. I could see the outlines of my friends. "Let's go." He walked past me and towards them.

Sora seemed happy to see us when we got up to them, because he immediately threw his arms around my neck and giggled. "Glad you went and kidnapped him?" he whispered into my ear.

Riku plucked Sora off me just as the scarlet drifted across my features. He pulled Sora close and hooked an arm around his waist. "Settle."

Zexion seemed to find some sort of detached amusement in my friends' behavior. He was smiling, but it wasn't the same smile _I_ always caught, it was a more benign smile. And his arms were crossed over his chest as he walked and just simply observed.

"Yo, Demyx," Axel said, acid-green eyes locked on Zexion. "This the guy Sora says you're obsessed with?"

I choked a little, and my face must have looked something like a stop sign. "Sora!"

Sora looked up at me with a sheepish grin and darted to the other side of Riku. Riku seemed to take immense amusement with it, because he roared with laughter. And, as laughter is wont to do, it spread amongst us until all of us, save Zexion, were giggling uncontrollably.

Even though he wasn't laughing, his smile seemed more involved. And he looked like on of us, then. He looked like he belonged beside us (despite the fact that he was dressed far nicer than any of we were.)

"But, seriously Demyx, is this the guy?" Axel was still laughing when he asked his question again, and this time it was Zexion that answered.

"Yes, that's me," he extended a hand to Axel then seemed to think better of it and ran it through his hair instead. "My name is Zexion."

Axel nodded and sneered a little. "You're one of those snooty British people, aren't you?"

Zexion shook his head. "It's English, actually, not British. And if anything I'm more cockney than I am posh." (Remember, I can't _write_ his accent …)

Axel laughed and clapped a hand on Zexion's shoulder. "I have no idea what any of that meant, but you seem pretty cool," he leaned closer and whispered. "You've still gotta contend with Roxas, though."'

"I think I'll be okay, really," Zexion locked eyes with Roxas and Roxas did something I'll never forget…

He shrugged and said, "I actually kind of like him."

And just like that, he didn't just look like one of us, he _was_ one of us. He was included in all of our jokes and he even laughed with us a couple of times. It didn't matter that he was new and it didn't matter that he was foreign. He'd passed all the tests my lunatic friends had come up with and so he was allowed into the circle!

I was so happy then, as we walked to the store. Because not only was I with Zexion, but he was with all of us. And every feeling of constriction and pain was gone from me in those moments. It was almost as if I'd never known them, really.

I have no idea what we talked about, though. Just like I have no idea how long it really took us to get to the Office Depot. All I remember is that feeling of elation and ease. Well, I remember that and what happened next, at the store. Because things there very nearly went to hell in a hand basket, as the saying goes.

We all sort of split up once we got inside. But Zexion followed me. We both had our own little shopping baskets, and we walked down a few aisles without saying anything before he finally spoke.

"Riku and Sora, they're gay, right?"

I _think_ I spluttered then, but I _know_ my blush returned in full force. "I … uh … N-no. Why?"

He shrugged and put a couple large notebooks in his basket. "It just seems to me that they are," he said and glanced at me. "Would it bug you if they were? Because, honestly Demyx, are _you_ straight?"

"I … Yeah. I am."

One eyebrow arched and he fixed me with an almost incredulous look, certainly it was unbelieving. "You're straight?" I nodded and little and stopped walking when he did. "So, you've _never_ thought about another guy in a romantic way?"

"No!" I lied, and started walking away. "Drop it, okay?"

He smiled and followed after me, casually grabbing a pack of pens as he did, and placing them in his basket. "You don't want to talk about it?"

"No, I don't really want to talk about it …"

He shrugged and put a pack of pencils and a notebook into _my_ basket. "Okay. What about Axel and Roxas?"

I stopped again and turned to face him, and I must have done so quickly because he momentarily lost his composure and nearly ran into me. "None of my friends are gay, Zexion!"

He smiled softy again and he looked so ridiculously _proper_ and out of my reach. "Alright Demyx, we'll talk about this another time."

I backed down and spent the rest of the time in a smoldering silence. I was angry, because I was confused by every feeling I had. I liked Zexion, in a more than just friendly way, I _knew_ that. But I _still_ didn't consider myself gay. And I didn't think any of my friends were gay.

Oh, but I was naïve, as I've already said. And even though I saw the way my friends acted I couldn't manage to admit to myself that maybe we really were just a big bunch of queers. It was just too much for me to accept at that time.

So I didn't say anything. I let Zexion lead me through the store and he threw things into my basket that were on my list (and many things that weren't.) I ignored most of this, and I'm not sure why he didn't just give up on me and move along to the next interesting thing. Because I was being anything _but_ receptive.

I'm really glad he didn't though …

He led me over to the cashier and my anger melted away into near panic. "I … uh … Sora and Roxas are lending me money to …"

"I've got it," he took my basket from me and emptied its contents into the black conveyor belt. I tried to protest against him but her shhed me and for some reason I fell silent almost immediately.

I can't remember how much he spent on me, but I know he bought me better things than I was used to (I hadn't been paying attention when he put things into my basket, apparently). And when he handed me the bag I almost couldn't take it from him.

"I'll pay you back when my mom comes home tonight."

He shrugged and we wandered outside to sit on the bench there. "It's not a problem."

I turned to face him. "No, really, I'll pay you back."

"Why do you want to so badly?"

I shrugged. "You shouldn't have to pay for my school stuff."

"I told you it isn't a problem."

I shot him a look that was supposed to be indignant, but I think it was probably closer to a pout. "Fine," I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the bench.

An uncomfortable silence settled down over us, or at least, it was uncomfortable for me. Zexion actually didn't seem to be that bothered by the silence. He was just sitting there, going through the things he'd bought for himself.

I got the impression he was a lot more well off than myself. And that wasn't just because he'd bought extra things for me and then insisted that I didn't need to pay him back. It was also because of the way he dressed and held himself. And that made me wonder why he was living in the same apartment complex as I. Because, well, I didn't have much money at all, as I've said.

"Zexion … Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," he said with a small nod.

"Why did you guys move into an apartment? It seems like you have enough money to live somewhere else."

He was quiet for a moment, probably gathering his thoughts. "The apartment is only a temporary arrangement," he said. "We're working on getting a house in the uptown district, but, it's apparently rather difficult."

"Well, yeah, all the houses are really huge."

He shrugged a little. "I'll still go to St. Mary's, so you don't have to worry about that."

I smiled, happy that my assumption had been right (I like to be right, and it's somewhat of a rarity), and happy that I was going to still be able to go to the same school as him. But at the same time, that admittance of wealth drove a wedge between us. One that was between me and every one of my well-off friends.

He seemed to notice this because he patted me on the knee lightly and said, "IT doesn't matter Demyx, really. It's just a trivial thing."

I nodded and, for some reason I felt like a little child again. It wasn't exactly a _bad_ feeling, but it was a peculiar one. I didn't understand how he could make me feel so strange and so peacefully confused and at war with myself.

Once again the warm feeling I was coming to associate with love flooded my entire being. And once again I both acknowledged it for what it was and ignored it.

Sora and Riku walked out of the store holding hands. But as soon as they saw us their hands fell apart and Zexion sent me a wry smile.

"Demyx, wasn't I buying your stuff?"

I started to say something but Zexion cut me off (he does this a lot, but he always apologizes later. … In what way I'll let you decide.) "I was with him so I went ahead and got his things for him."

Sora smiled as if my _new_ neighbor buying me _all_ my school supplies (and nice ones too!) was a completely normal thing. And, gods! _Sora_ probably got it! He probably knew Zexion liked me as much as I liked him. But _I didn't!_

Sigh. Captain oblivious saw what I didn't. How pathetic is that?

I returned his smile with my own puzzled one. The day was starting to wear on me and I just wanted to go back to sleep. Because too much had happened in the course of two days. Too damn much.

But we were waiting on Roxas and Axel. And the two of them tend to be slow when they're left to their own devices. (I think it's just impossible for them to plot the destruction of the world _and_ be productive.)

I pulled my knees up to my chest and tried to find a comfortable way to relax. But unfortunately the weird plastic mesh-like benches can't be made that comfortable, regardless of one's position and insistent squirming.

I don't know how long I fidgeted. But eventually it must have got on Zexion's nerves because he pulled me over into his lap. (The speed with which he did so was almost scary; because I had no idea how strong he was.)

"Sit still," he muttered when I began to squirm. "You were trying to get comfortable. I'm far more comfortable than the bench, I'm sure."

Well, he had a point, I couldn't argue with that, he _was_ so much softer than the bench. And I could feel his warmth! But as much as I loved it I couldn't just _let_ him coddle me, despite how much I really wanted to do just that.

Regardless of what I chose, my feeble attempts to move myself weren't enough. He held me where I was until I relaxed. And with my relaxation came the release of my waist. And, oh god, I missed that gentle pressure as soon as it was gone!

I felt so strange sitting there, on his lap. Part of me was horribly uncomfortable with his close proximity, but a much larger part of me was loving his attention and drinking it up like it would keep my alive forever, if only I could keep the flow coming.

I ended up resting my head against his chest and closed my eyes. He smelled the way he had in my dream, exactly the same. And I found myself wondering if I'd find a dash of peppermint in his mouth.

I was close to letting go of my reason when I saw someone I knew. And worse, she was a teacher at my (our) school.

She was looking directly at us and I felt the blush searing across my face even as I rocketed off Zexion's lap. I tried to laugh and wave to her, but the wince on Riku's face told me my attempt at causality had been wasted.

When she disappeared into the store I slumped back down onto the bench and stared at my feet.

"Who was that?" Zexion asked, and he sounded irritated; had I looked up I'm sure he would have _looked_ irritated as well.

"She was my home room teacher last year," I muttered. "And now she's going to tell my mother that I was sitting in some _guy's_ lap."

"And that would be an issue, if you were gay."

"You don't know my mom!"

He laid a hand on my knee. "Calm down, Demyx. There's no need to worry."

I looked up at him and I think there were tears in my eyes, because I was _that_ scared. "You don't know this town …"

He was silent for a moment, and in that moment he looked more serious than I'd thought possible. "Is it really such a big deal?"

I didn't answer him, because I didn't know what to say. My first reaction was to blurt 'yes, yes it really _is_ a big deal!' but I thought to say it would hurt somehow.

"I think it's time we go home," Riku said, just as Axel and Roxas walked out of the store, each carrying bags of stuff and both looking mischievous.

Zexion nodded and stood. I wasn't looking up anymore, but I could feel his eyes on me. It seemed like they were passing over me and analyzing me in some way. It was something that was both unnerving and comforting at the same time.

"What's wrong with Demyx?" I heard Roxas ask.

"I'll explain later, Roxas," was Sora's response.

I think I've made it pretty clear that Roxas can't accept answers like that, regardless of the question. And so, as is his fashion, he walked over to me, stuck his face in mine, and said;

"Yo, Demyx, what's up?"

I looked up at him and in light of the genuine concern I saw so clearly printed on his face I knew that I had probably been wrong to automatically assume the worst. It was true enough that it was in my nature to over react, but this time I'd gone too far. Because time I'd worried my friends as well.

I shook my head and smiled, it was a real smile and I was glad I could pull one out so easily.

"Nothing," I said and flashed the smile to all of them. "I just had a bit of a scare, I guess."

Roxas examined me a moment longer and then he too smiled. "Okay," he spoke slowly, but with a certain amount of what I've always thought was unconscious grace. "Let's go home?"

We all nodded (except for Zexion, who just sort of started walking). The others lagged behind a little but I ran after Zexion. There was some things I wanted to say, things I wanted to apologize for (like freaking out like I had). But before _I_ could say anything, _he_ did.

"There's not anything to apologize about," he said, without looking at me or slowing his pace. "So don't even bother doing it, alright?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but my vocal cords froze up and wouldn't let any sound come out. I huffed a little and gave up on speaking and just nodded and grunted in what I hoped sounded like agreement.

We walked for a little while without saying anything. I'm not sure if that was because my voice just didn't want to work or because neither of us had anything to say. I really don't think it was the latter, because I had plenty of things running through my mind that I _wanted_ to vocalize.

I think I just lacked the necessary courage to say any of them.

"I'd stop, if you'd really ask," Zexion said when our building came into view. "If you _really_ don't want me to do things like I did today, just tell me so and I'll stop."

He must have taken my silence for discomfort. Well, it was, sort of. "It's not that … It's …"

"You haven't known me long enough for me to be shattering your perception of the world?"

I laughed, quietly. "Does everyone in England talk like you?"

"Accent? Yes. Daring way of stringing words together for maximum effect and shock value? No, not really."

I smiled, he was easy to talk to, once the conversation got going, anyway. "It's sort of a shame …"

"You like the way I talk that much, do you?" He seemed to be thickening his accent and dipping into the realm of cheesy theatrics.

"It's new," I wanted to say it was cute, but I wasn't up for admitting anything so deep.

"If you like my voice so much you ought to be happy not everyone uses the same one," he said with a smile. "It means I'm more unique."

"Yeah, you're unique alright."

"Oh?" He arched an eyebrow and leaned against the same spot he'd found earlier (and again I didn't want him to get dirty!). "I detect a certain amount of sarcasm, don't I?"

I smiled and leaned on the wall next to him. "Nope, you really are unique."

He ruffled my hair. "As are you, little one."

"Hey!" I swatted his hand away indignantly. "You're not that much older than me!"

"Oh, but I'm taller," he didn't move off the wall to demonstrate, but I looked over at him and yeah, he was taller than me by a substantial bit (gods I loved it when I outgrew him!)

I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed. "I was almost worried you'd act oddly around me, given earlier."

I shrugged. "I guess not …"

"That's because it doesn't bug you. Because you're not straight."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Why do you keep denying it?"

I groaned and decided to do what I felt was safest; run away. "It's getting late," which wasn't exactly a lie, the sun was setting on the horizon. "I should go home."

"We'll continue our conversation later then?"

I shrugged. "I dunno." I turned and went towards the stairs.

"Oi, Demyx," his words stopped me, but I didn't look at him. "Think about what I've said to you. Let the words settle in and take root. Then come back and tell me you're straight, okay?"

I didn't say anything. It was just too much for me to respond to. Too much had happened, and as I walked up the stairs and into my apartment I felt the emotional weight of everything like I'd never felt it before.

My body felt heavy, and my brain was muddled. It was almost more than I could handle to write my mom a quick note to tell her I'd gotten my school things but wouldn't need any money for them. And that I wanted to sleep in the next day.

And after that, after scrawling that quick note to my mom I drug myself into my room, peeled off my clothes, and burrowed under the blankets.

As I waited for sleep to take hold of me I kept thinking of the last thing Zexion had said to me:

_"Think about what I've said to you. Let the words settle in and take root. Then come back and tell me you're straight, okay?"_

…

For some reason, I slept well that night.

* * *

**A/N: **Zexion is clearly one of the antagonists of this, isn't he? .::.nervous.::. I'm not really sure why he came out the way he did, but I like it that way (he changed a lot in this chapter, I think I sort of inadvertently made him act more like a rich 16-year-old …) Because, really, Demyx needs someone assertive or else he'll never stop thinking he's straight! (Silly, silly boy!)

Anyway, it's summer, so, updates will be more regular. I'll shoot for once a week, but I have a 100 KH Fanfic Challenge I'm working on (See my LJ for details: Search for Rythm (UNDERSCORE) Emotion), so it may take longer for me to update. (Replace the UNDERSCORE with an actual underscore. Damn Fanfiction won't let me put one on here, or the URL.

**:Next time in Pandora's Box:**

Weeks pass and Demyx keeps himself busy around the house and with his mother to avoid his friends and Zexion. He's confused and doesn't know what to do. But he can't avoid everyone forever. And forever seems to end around the next bend, which is, when school begins.


	6. It Starts

**A/N: **Okay, here's the deal guys, my uncle's computer sort of exploded a couple days ago. Which means that, while, yes, I can keep writing, I'll have a hard time typing things up. Which means that, sadly, my updating of this fic will be even slower than it already has been. During the weekends I'll try to evenly split my time between FFVII and typing this though, okay? Anyway, I'll do my best to update as quickly as possible, okay?

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I don't own Kingdom Hearts. I didn't come up with any of the characters in this fic, and I certainly didn't coin any of the pairings you may or may not find in it. Also, I don't own any of the random things in today's society that I reference. Kay? Are we done? Good.

* * *

**Started on:** June 12, 2007

**Finished on: **June 17, 2007

* * *

**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter Six: It Starts**

I avoided everyone for the remainder of the summer, and trust me, it isn't easy to avoid someone who lives directly beneath you. My friends may have been more persistent about prying me away from housework and my mother, but Zexion made it nigh impossible to step out the front door.

It seemed he was always outside doing something, and I know he knew I was avoiding him and everyone else. He was making that task as hard as possible for me, but not in a way I could do anything about. I couldn't run out there and shoo him away (that would defeat the purpose of my avoidance.)

So I did nothing about it, but I did sneak down the fire escape when I needed to.

During this time my mom didn't actually seem that suspicious of anything. She never questioned my staying inside and even helped me come up with plausible and unrepeated alibis.

I think she was just lonely. But I never asked her, and we don't really talk anymore.

And even though I did really well with avoiding everyone, I knew it would eventually become impossible. I wouldn't be able to avoid them in school (I had class with most of them!) But I never really thought about that fact until the day uniforms arrived, along with an unsuspected visitor.

It was only a couple days before school when they came. My mom wasn't home, so I signed for the package when the delivery man came to the door (it wasn't Cloud, maybe it was his day off.)

Zexion was leaning against his mom's car and looking up at me. His hair was draped over one side of his face, but the one eye that locked onto me had plenty of fire behind it.

That gaze was more than enough to make me retreat back into the apartment and securely lock the door.

I took the box into my room (which was ridiculously clean by that point), and hung the uniforms in my closet by the old ones. They took up a good deal of my closet, but they made it look nice, like some spoiled little rich kid lived there instead of an unkempt not-quite-poor-kid.

Of course, the missing door spoiled any real imagery of money.

I was thinking about this still, this … pretty lie, when I heard the knock on my door.

When I turned and saw him he nearly gave me a heart attack. But then the clam demeanor of him sunk in and soothed me. And he spoke, and I knew instantly that his exterior belied a boiling interior.

"You've been avoiding me, why?" Quick speech, accent sharper than usual, clipped.

"I'm not avoiding you …" I looked away, not because I wanted to, but because I _couldn't_ look at him, not without thinking of my dreams.

"Look at me, Demyx."

I thought, for a moment, that I might disobey him, that I might continue staring at my guitar. But, miraculously my eyes heeded the command that my mind wanted to disregard.

"It doesn't bother me that you're lying about avoiding me, not really, not right now, anyway. What does bother me is that I entered your house when it was locked, and you haven't asked how I did so."

I don't know which part of that moment confused me more, the fact that he was, in fact, there, or the fact that I hadn't thought about it at all until he'd drawn my attention to it.

He flicked his wrist and a piece of glinting silver arched toward me. I snatched it out of the air and looked down at it; a key.

"Fake rocks don't work well in the city. You ought to tell your mum that."

I gaped at him then, but it didn't surprise me that much. After all, he'd been watching for me as steadfastly as I'd been avoiding him.

"It's illegal to just come in here like that, y'know."

He shrugged and looked around the room. "Are you avoiding me because I forced you to question your sexuality?"

_Yes. _"You haven't made me question anything."

The visible eyebrow arched. "Oh, really?" He came towards me and in a moment of uncharacteristic bravery I stood my ground. "So, if I were to kiss you right now, you've be angry, because you're straight, correct?"

My courage faltered and I stepped back. Part of me wanted him to kiss me, but a very large part of me _didn't_ want him to. It was just too much, too fast, and I was too terrified.

He moved forward another step, and I felt my back connect with something solid, the wall, probably. And then I remembered one of the last things he'd told me.

"S-stop! Stop it. You said you'd stop if I asked you to …"

He halted where he was and regarded me with a nod. "I did, and I'll stop," his hands drifted into his pockets and he made to looking around my room.

"… Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you, and _you've_ been avoiding me," one hand reached out and stroked the neck of my guitar. "You haven't played lately, have you?"

"… No …" I wasn't looking at him anymore, no, not at him. I was looking out the window at the black steel of the fire escape and wishing I could run down it to safety or sanity, whichever I might find.

"You sing as well, don't you?"

I shook my head. "Not as well as I play …"

"I want to hear you.

I shook my head again. "I … I don't want to …"

He picked up the guitar and looked at it almost longingly for a moment and then held it out to me. "Demyx, please play for me."

I took the guitar from him and sighed. "I really don't know what to play …"

"Play something you wrote, you don't have to sing." He moved around me, towards the bed, and sat there, but his eyes never left me.

I nodded, but grudgingly. It wasn't that I didn't want to play for him, it was that I was _afraid_ to play for him. I thought that if I started to play something I would play it wrong. And, honestly, I hadn't written anything I liked since the day I first met him.

And that was when I decided that that was the piece I should play. I let my mind wander back to that first night and I let my fingers trace over the cords I would play.

The music was there, and I hadn't forgotten a single note. They were all the same but it seemed that there was something new in them. Some deeper sense of the situation that hadn't had time to develop when I'd written it. It wasn't sorrowful, not quite, but almost.

All of my emotions were bleeding through the music. All of the pain and the longing and confusion I'd felt for the past few weeks bubbled up through it and I know Zexion must have felt them as clearly as I did. How could he not have?

By the time the music stopped I felt better than I'd felt in ages. It was like all the trouble and burdens I'd been feeling had been instantly lifted off my shoulders. And at that moment I vowed to always play something when I needed a release. Because it was infinitely better than any other thing I had tried.

He clapped slowly when the song ended and that was when I noticed he was still there. I felt the blush crawl up my cheeks and I hated it, yet again.

"Did you like it …?"

He nodded and stood to take the guitar from me and sit it back where he'd got it. "You have talent, Demyx. And passion, as well." He turned and looked at me with his gentle smile. "Play for me again sometime?"

I nodded before I could really stop myself, and despite the blush I was smiling. "I guess …"

"Thank you," he glanced down at his watch and grimaced. "I have to go, Demyx. Stop avoiding me, okay?"

"I … Yeah … Okay …"

He walked to the door and paused. "Do you have a ride to school the first day?"

I shrugged. "Normally I just walk …"

"I'll walk with you," it wasn't a question, and he didn't give me a chance to respond, he just walked out of my room and a few seconds later I heard the front door open and close.

Now, I admit that when I was around him I tended to fall back into the submissive roll even more than I usually did on my own. But I'm not sure why that is, because, honestly, he isn't that controlling and he doesn't even really attempt to be. So I'm not sure why I ultimately doing everything he says without really questioning it.

I think my reaction to him stemmed from my feelings for him (even though I wasn't admitting them). Some part of me was falling into the background when I was around him because it was safer than trying to be assertive and making more of a fool of myself than I already did.

Unfortunately it took me a very long time to get completely over that problem. Something about those early encounters must have ingrained themselves into my behavioral patterns and influenced the way I acted throughout even my adult life. (It was interesting when I became able to stand up to him and actually do things on my own. The sex was also a lot more involved and interesting.)

Anyway, I spent the rest of the day lounging around and thinking about the first day of school. Like I said it was only two days away, and once I walked into the school I was going to be bombarded by my friends and their questions. They were going to want to know why I had been avoiding them and they weren't going to take any of my lame excuses.

But I couldn't really worry about that too much because I had more immediate and more pressing matters on my mind. Instead of thinking about what my friends would say when I got to school I was thinking about what the walk to school was going to be like.

Zexion was going to walk with me to school, and why he wanted to I wasn't really sure. And even though I was dreading it on a very large plane I was looking forward to it. I didn't want to admit to even myself that I liked him in a romantic way, but I was able to admit the fact that I liked him very much as a friend.

That particular idea changed over the next two days. And by the time the night before school rolled around I really was dreading the next day, and _everything_ about it.

I spent hours gathering my school things and organizing them to the point of mania. I was doing it because I didn't want to go to bed, because if I laid down and stopped to think about anything I would start thinking about Zexion. And I'd came to a very startling conclusion.

I _did_ like Zexion, and in somewhat of a romantic way. I was able to admit it to myself but I didn't want to think about what that really meant. It was too much for me to think that I might actually be gay or bisexual or whatever it was that I was becoming. The darkness and stillness of the night to come would usher in those thoughts and I wouldn't be able to stop them.

Even though I knew that it was something I would ultimately have to face, it didn't change the fact that I wanted to post pone it as long as I could.

When I finally laid down to go to sleep the thoughts did come. And with them came that sense of confusion that had been with me since I met Zexion, and I wanted nothing more than to pick up my guitar and let the notes release me, carry me away to somewhere far past pain and confusion and fear. But I couldn't do that because it was late, and my mom had just gotten home from work and would want undisturbed sleep.

Regardless, I eventually did manage to go to sleep, and I dreamt that night. It was the same dream I kept having, the one staring Zexion and me in an intimate dance that resulted in me awakening with a mess on my hands.

And a full five hours after laying down I was standing in the bathroom with a wad of dirty clothes laying to the side of my feet. It was only six thirty but I was already up and wearing my full uniform.

I stood there looking at my reflection and wishing my hair wouldn't be so silly looking. Aside from my unevenly cut and perpetually unkempt hair I didn't actually look that bad (not as bad as I always told myself, really). My crisp looking uniform fit the contours of my body better than anything I'd ever voluntarily wear, and that helped the image change. Usually I hated the way I looked in my uniform, because it didn't look like me. Yet I liked it that morning for some reason, and I'm sure why that is. It had something (or everything) to do with Zexion.

My mom wasn't awake at that point, she was sleeping between her two shifts at work. So I was all on my own for breakfast, which ended up consisting of nothing more than a couple bites from a bowl of soggy cereal.

I just didn't have an appetite. Too many things were going through my mind for me to really concentrate on eating anything meaningful. Most of them involved Zexion, but some of them involved school and what I would find there.

It was my first year in the high school part of the school, and even though I'd met most of my teachers before I was nervous about the whole thing. For one there would be a lot of new faces to learn, and a lot of new enemies to make (I didn't and don't make friends easily). Not to mention the fact that, at St. Mary's, none of the teachers ever gave a break on homework loads, even if it was just the beginning of the year.

I wasn't sure I was ready for it all, but that didn't mean that when it came time to leave I didn't. No, I grabbed my bag and left the house the way I was supposed to and I swallowed any residual fear that I had about the oncoming day.

Only, when I saw Zexion all that returned.

He was standing by the stairs, leaning against one of the pillars that held up the balconies above. He was wearing the same uniform as me, only it seemed to look far better on him. The gentle colors of red, black, and white seemed to look wonderful on him and they really clung to him in the most exquisite way I thought was possible. The black jacket was buttoned up to the middle and laid open to show his tie and plain white undershirt, and the pants were tailored perfectly and stopped at the right spot above his shining black shoes.

He really was something to see, and it was almost too hard for me to look at it and not have the dreams come rushing back to me. And then he smiled, and that must have been because he knew I was looking at him with the buds of desire behind my eyes and my faint smile. And when he smiled something in me melted.

"G'morning," he said and his eyes traveled up and down my body and I felt the blush spread across my cheeks yet again. "You ought to wear clothes that fit you more often, Demyx. Instead of those things you usually wear."

My blush deepened as my indignation bloomed. "I like what I usually wear, thank you very much."

"Yes, well, these look good on you," he leaned in and kissed me on both cheeks, quickly, like people do in the movies. "That isn't an English greeting, not really, but I rather like it. Don't you?"

I almost nodded, but changed it into a shake in the middle of the motion. "No, I don't think I do." I walked past him and started to cross the parking lot. "Are you coming?"

He nodded and caught up with me easily, and really, why did any of it surprise me? Why did the way he spoke to me continue to captivate and surprise me when I knew he was going to say something shocking and bold?

Maybe it was the love controlling my emotional responses to things, I really don't know. All I know is that walking to school with him was an emotional roller coaster of comfort and discomfort. Because at times I felt completely myself and free around him, but at others during that walk I felt like I was walking with someone foreign and new and frightening on some level.

As seems to happen often, I've forgotten what we actually talked about. I know that we didn't touch upon the subject of sexuality, that I would have remembered. So I think we likely talked about something trivial and probably a little boring.

Any chance at being bored disappeared by the time the school came into view, and along with it, the students. It was a large school, and made entirely out of stone. It looked like some sort of cross between a Gothic cathedral and a modern school building.

When we walked inside I figured we would split off and he'd go his own way to go to his class, maybe meet some new friends his age, and leave me alone. But that isn't what happen. Instead he took me by the upper arm and led me through the halls.

"How do you know where you're going?"

"I don't," he said, and then his face nearly lit up. "Actually, I was looking for someone, but I just found him."

I looked ahead just as a bright head of blond started coming towards us. It was Roxas, I knew that and I also knew that he was going to be, at the very least, highly irritated.

And I was right.

He stormed up to us and stopped about a foot away from me. "Explain yourself, Demyx, now," he jabbed a finger at me as he spoke and I wanted nothing more than to disappear somewhere.

I opened my mouth to say something as Sora, Riku and Axel walked up and flanked me. They all fixed me with glares, except for Sora, who looked like he was trying, at least. I looked to Zexion for help but he shook his head, apparently he was enjoying the show, either that or he thought I deserved what I was getting.

"Explain what?" My voice was quiet, and probably squeaky (they were _scaring_ me!)

"Why haven't we seen you in _weeks_?" Again he jabbed at me with his finger.

"I … Uh … I've been busy around the house."

"Yeah, bull shit. No one can be that busy with housework."

"Cloud isn't even that busy when he goes into one of his obsessive compulsive modes."

"Sora! You're turning on me too?"

"Don't talk to him with the puppy face and eyes!" Roxas jerked my attention back to him. "That isn't fair at all, and you know that."

I looked down at the ground. "Can we talk about this later?"

"No." They all spoke in unison.

"We're going to talk about it now because you might disappear again." Axel crossed his arms over his chest and fixed me with something like a smirk.

"So, Demyx," Riku said. "Why were you so busy with 'house work.'"

"And don't try to tell us it was all your mom's idea."

They were ganging up on me and they knew it would make me crack. Or at least, they thought it would. But they underestimated how much I did _not_ want to talk about it.

"I'll talk to you guys about it later," I ducked under Riku and Sora and darted behind Zexion. "See you in class."

They tried to follow me but I dove into a cluster of kids and eventually I lost track of their voices in the mull. I got away from them, yes, but that didn't really make me feel any better. Because, as I've already said, I had class with some of them. So I knew I'd see them in just a few minutes.

When I walked into the classroom the only person in it was the teacher, who greeted me with a nod. I muttered a 'Good morning' to him and took a seat towards the back of the classroom. My goal in sitting there was that it would take my friends longer than everyone else to get there and the more popular seats around me would be taken up.

I was wrong, and that fact doesn't really surprise me in the slightest. Because, really, I'm wrong more often than I'm right. They were in the room just minutes after I was, and Sora and Roxas made a bee-line for the seats around me.

They didn't say anything when they sat down, and on some level that relieved me. At the same time, however, it terrified me. Their silence made me think that they were plotting something. And the only thing worse than Sora and Roxas plotting something is _Axel_ and Roxas plotting (what can be worse than that though, really?)

They held their silence as more students piled into the classrooms and filled up the seats around us. And when the bell sounded and the announcements started, that silence still stuck.

By that time I was growing more and more nervous. I knew they had to have some sort of a plan, but I had no idea what it could be. All I knew for sure was that there was no way it could be good for me. After all, I was out of their graces at that point in time, and anything against them was doomed to pain, suffering, and possibly death.

Not that I honestly thought they'd do anything too bad to me. Because I _didn't_ really think that. Most of those type of thoughts were brought on by the fact that I'm a drama queen at times (most of the time). And thus I had to imagine things turning out as badly as they possibly could. Regardless of the unlikelihood of the fantasies.

See, I knew, when it came right down to it, that they were my friends. And that they would never do anything consciously that would hurt me in _any_ way. They might follow me around and make me nervous for a little while, but ultimately everything would be forgotten.

But, like I said, I'm a drama queen, so this knowledge didn't really help me much. I still thought, somewhere in my mind, that they were going to turn on me and do something despicable and terrifying because of what I'd done. (Even though, avoiding them for the reasons I did wasn't that terrible of a thing.)

The teacher started speaking and his voice broke me from my reverie long enough to make me look up at him and realize something; I didn't know this man, had never met him in my life, to be honest. He was of medium height and build, his hair graying but still full.

And he spoke with an English accent.

He introduced himself by writing his name on the board in a cursive scrawl; Joaquin Michaels.

My hand shot into the air and I thought for a moment he wasn't going to acknowledge it, I thought he would ignore it and continue on with his introduction lecture. But I was wrong, he did call on me, but he looked none too pleased at having been interrupted.

"Uhm … Sorry Sir, but … Are you by any chance related to a Zexion Michaels?"

He looked surprised for a second, a minute raise of the eyebrows. "Actually, yes, I am. He's my Grandson. How do you know him?"

"He's my neighbor …"

"Ah. Hmm …" He looked down at what I assume was his roster. "So, you must be Demyx then, am I correct?" I nodded. "Well, Demyx, it's nice to be properly acquainted with you, and it's wonderful you know my Grandson, but do not interrupt me again, alright?"

"Yes sir …"

"Alright, good," He turned back to the board and scrawled the name of the assigned reading and its author on the board. _David Copperfield_, by Charles Dickens. "I'd like everyone to take out their essays, please."

There was a mass rustling of papers as we all searched through our bags for our respective essays. It wasn't hard for me to find my paper, and it was a first for me. Because one of the items Zexion had bought be was a seven subject folder and I'd put my essay in it the night before school started. It felt nice to be organized like that, really nice.

I ran my eyes over the words on the pages, though I didn't really read any of them. There wasn't time or real opportunity for that, because after only a few moments the teacher was calling for us to hand the papers up to him at the front of the classroom.

"I'm impressed," he said. "With the exception of those who are absent today, everyone turned this in." He laid the stack of papers on his desk and turned back to us. "That sets the bar high for you all, I hope you realize that."

He leaned back on his desk and scanned us. I think he momentarily locked eyes with every one of us, and I was already starting to like him (even if I was a bit afraid of him). "I'm new here, both to the country and to this school. I attended Oxford University and received my teaching degree there." Someone raised their hand at this point and he paused in his speech to point towards them and nod his head.

"If you went to Oxford, why are you teaching here?"

He smiled. "That's a good question.

"I'm teaching here because the old English teacher wasn't up to par. And because I'm willing to bring a taste of higher education to this school without demanding extra pay.

"I'd like to get to know all of your names, and even though I hate silly little games, the best way to do it really is to go around the room and have everyone introduce themselves."

There was a collective groan from the class then, but he ignored it and walked to the person in the front of the class. "'Ello, you already know my name, what is yours?" He held out his hand and after being told the kids name they shook hands. "William, excellent name. Pleasure to meet you."

He repeated this with everyone and by the time he made his rounds around the room he was beaming along with everyone else. He seemed to have a fairly decent grasp on most of our names, and it was impressive. Granted, there were only about fifteen students in the room (it _was_ the honors class, after all.)

"I don't know if you all are aware of this or not, but, this school has some of the highest English scores on the SATs for Juniors and Seniors. Now, that's impressive, given the size of the school and the fact that, well, it isn't the richest. And lord knows we always expect the rich to do better than the downtrodden, do we not?"

People nodded here, but only some. I think most of them were a little reluctant to go along with the way the speech was going because we weren't terribly sure just _where_ it was going.

"I've arranged something with the Principal of this school, something that I hope will work out as well as it could. But, for that to happen I need every one of you to work your hardest at every task I give you.

"What I have arranged is that I shall be the teacher for all four years of honors English, which means, like it or not, you'll have me as your English teacher for your entire high school career if you can keep up with my class.

"Along with that, I have informed the administrators that, starting in no less than three years, we will no longer be one of the best scoring schools in English. We will be _the best_."

This seemed to be, to me, a lofty goal at best. But if the rest of the class shared my reservations they didn't show it. The rest of the class was beaming up at him, even Roxas looked impressed with the old guy. And I have to admit, he was a pretty amazing teacher, even from that first moment.

"To get started, I'm going to give you another book to read." The class groaned here, but it was a theatrical one without much feeling behind it, they were all too excited about the chance to be called the best in something. "Here's the book," he held up a thick looking book and showed it to us. "It's called _Paradise Lost_. And normally I wouldn't introduce this to a group of Freshmen, but given our challenges over the next few years, we're going to start big."

He began passing the books out to us, and when I got my copy and started skimming through I felt a thin string of anticipation lace through me. It seemed interesting and challenging at the same time.

When it came to reading and writing I was always up for a challenge. And this book, this poem, seemed to be the perfect way to start off a year of school.

The rest of the class wasn't as interesting as that beginning, however. It was spent with us going over the main points of the book as revealed by it's back cover synopsis. And once the bell rang to release us I grabbed my things and tried to leave before Roxas and Sora.

I don't know why I thought that would ever work, because they beat me to the door.

They stood flanking it, arms crossed over their chests and looking at me with level, albeit still irritated gazes.

"Demyx, did you avoid us because of Zexion?"

I blanched at Sora's bluntness. I hadn't expected the question to come out so quickly or so plainly. And I didn't really know what to say to answer it. "I … Uh …"

"That's all you needed to say, y'know," Roxas clapped a hand on my shoulder and turned and walked out of the room.

Sora beamed up at me. "So, make any headway with Zexion while you were ignoring us?"

I sighed. "Sora … I think I like him …"

He laughed and we left the class together. "Well, yeah, of course you do. Is there something wrong with that?"

"I don't know, that's the problem …"

"Demyx, I know that people have been telling us that it's wrong for two guys or two girls or whatever to be together for pretty much our entire lives. But, why is that, do you think? Why is it so wrong if those people love each other?"

I groaned and rubbed my temple. "When you say it like that it all makes such perfect sense that there isn't anything wrong with it … But … Oh god, my mother would disown me …"

"So don't tell her, if it would freak her out." He put and arm around my waist and hugged me briefly. "But, you ought to tell Zexion because he's pining for you something awful."

" … How could you know that?"

"He walked you to school, didn't he? And he watched your every move while you hid from the world, right?"

"Sora … If you know these things, why do you even bother asking?"

He grinned. "It seems less suspicious when I ask questions. Doesn't it?"

I shook my head a little. "I don't know … It's weird regardless. I mean, how do you know all the things you do?"

He giggled and rubbed the back of his head. "You ought to tell him."

"You're ignoring me …"

"We're kind of ignoring each other, actually …"

"Yeah, so …"

"Tell him, Demyx, before he gets bored and goes to someone else."

"You don't think he'd actually do that, do you?!"

He giggled again and rubbed under his nose. "Nah. I think he really likes you. And you like him."

"No."

"You just admitted it a minute ago."

"I'm going to class."

"Do we not have the next one together?" He started digging through his pockets for his schedule.

"We don't have it together. " I turned away from him and practically ran to my next class.

The rest of my classes that day weren't interesting. But that isn't to say that nothing important happened over the course of the day. Lunch, for example, was important.

Zexion sat with us outside in the courtyard under one of the large trees. He sat by me and, even though I didn't say much, he was constantly trying to steer me into the conversation.

And then he asked if there was anything going on between Riku and Sora and Axel and Roxas.

Riku just smirked a little and slung an arm around Sora's shoulder (while Sora blushed). But Roxas more or less freaked out when the question was posed on him.

"That's rude," he said. "I thought English people were supposed to be refined and shit?"

"A lot are. But I find that the best way to get the things I want from people is to be as blunt as I possibly can be." Zexion leaned back in the grass with a smile. "So, are you two a couple, then?"

Roxas stood and drug Axel with him. "It's none of your damn business." With that they stormed off. Or, more accurately, Roxas stormed off and Axel was drug off.

"That was odd," Zexion said. "Why is he so touchy?"

No one had an answer for him. And I think that's because none of us had really admitted to ourselves that Axel and Roxas might be more than just, well, Axel and Roxas.

We didn't really talk much for the rest of lunch, and I think that's because there wasn't much to talk about (that would have been comfortable, anyway). Riku and Sora had more or less been forced to come out to us, and I think they were still thinking about that and how they felt about it.

_I_ wasn't talking because I was close to Zexion. He was sitting right next to me and I could feel the heat from him and I loved it. I was slowly coming to accept the feelings I had for him (though I still thought, somewhere in my subconscious, that what I was allowing myself to think was wrong on a fundamental level of being). Being that close to him felt right to me, though. And that sense, more than anything, made me feel alright with letting my feelings grow.

But I didn't say anything else during lunch. And when the bell rang to dismiss us back to our next class I got up and took a deep breath. "Zexion, after school, will you walk home with me?"

He looked up at me with a soft smile. "Of course, Demyx. I'll meet you out front, okay?"

I nodded and ran to my next class.

I didn't pay much attention in the rest of my classes that day. I was too busy thinking about what I was going to say to Zexion on the way home. I had a very vague idea of what and how I should approach the subject of my feelings, but that didn't mean that I knew what I wanted to say to him.

A lot of things were going on in my mind at that time. A lot of confusing thoughts about whether or not what I was about to do was really what I thought was the best for me and for the way my life could go. Because, honestly, it was dangerous, admitting I had feelings for another guy to said other guy.

But I was going to tell him, regardless of what happened or how scared I got. And when I saw him after school I didn't get more afraid like I thought I might. Instead of feeling more fear flood into my system I felt a sense of calm and strength. And when I said hello to him and he smiled I felt like I would melt. But it was a nice feeling.

We started walking and neither of us said anything until I saw our apartment building raise over the horizon. I knew then that I had to start talking or it wasn't going to get done.

"Hey … Zexion, can I tell you something?"

He looked over at me. "Sure, what about?"

"Well … Uhm …" I searched for a way to say what I was feeling but I couldn't find it. So I took a deep breath and just went for it. "I know that we haven't known each other for very long. And, I know that when we are around each other we usually fight because you're always insisting that I'm not straight but I always say I am straight, and that must be annoying. But … Zexion, I like you …"

He smiled and hooked an arm around my shoulder. "Yeah, I know. Why do you think I've been giving you so much trouble about it?"

I blushed and shoved his arm off me. "Don't do that, my mom might see."

"Oh, right, I forgot that this town is ridiculously uptight about such things." He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Where do you want to go from here?"

"What do you mean, where do I want to go from here?"

He stopped walking and looked at me, that soft smile still on his face. "Well, you admitted your feelings for me, and I think I've made myself pretty clear. Have I not?" I nodded a little, the blush intensifying on my face. "So, the next logical step would be to date.

"Demyx, _will_ you date me?"

I didn't immediately know what to say when he asked me. Part of me was screaming that I ought to say yes and leave it at that, without any second thought. But the annoying and rational part of my brain was telling me that it was too dangerous to get caught up in a relationship with another guy. It was one thing that I'd told him I liked him, and a completely different thing to take that like and let it become something more.

"I don't know if I should Zexion …"

"Demyx, I'm going to do something I don't often do. I'm going to drop the pretentious way I usually talk to you and everyone else and be emotionally frank with you." He started walking again and I followed. "I know it'll be hard for us to date, you won't be able to tell your mum and we won't be able to tell anyone but our friends, but that doesn't honestly bother me. Because from the moment I saw you I liked you.

"So don't tell me that you don't know if you should say yes or not, because that's just the fear talking. Believe me, I know that you're afraid, but you don't have to worry about it, I'll protect you.

"Do you trust me?"

I sighed. "Unfortunately, I think I do."

"Then date me. Take my hand, and date me."

He held out his hand and I looked at it. His fingers were long and slender, and the skin looked so soft. I didn't think about what could happen then, I stopped thinking about everything that could go wrong and I started thinking about everything that could go _right._

And when I did that I realized that I might be able to be happy with him, I might be able to be content and myself and I wanted to take that chance. So I reached for his hand and I took it in my own.

"You better protect me …" I muttered. "Because if anyone found out about this …"

"Just trust me, Demyx, okay?"

"I took your hand, didn't I?"

He smiled. "Yeah, you took my hand."

* * *

**A/N: **I'm surprised with myself. Last Friday (two days ago) I sat down with the intention to finish typing this chapter this weekend, but, honestly, I thought I would procrastinate it and not get it done. Because that's what I usually do. But I did get it done. And I like the way this chapter turned out.

I tried to advance their relationship some, and I hope it doesn't seem rushed. But, really, is the sixth chapter rushing it?

Anyway, I'll update this again as soon as possible, okay guys? (Review, please? It makes me happy …)

**:Next Time: **What will happen now that Zexion and Demyx are officially Zemyx? How long can love be kept a secret when the people involved invariably fall madly for each other and want nothing more than to scream if from every street corner? How long can they stay together before something inside them snaps? Remember, though the ending may be happy, the road to that ending is most certainly not.


	7. Part One

**A/N:** This chapter is giving/gave me trouble. See, I sort of knew where I wanted to take it, but I didn't know how to get there. Bad crap happened while I was typing this chapter. First, I kicked myself outta my Gram's and thus lost most computer time. Then it was the fourth. And then I was tired. And, sheesh, this was just hard to do! But … Hopefully it'll be worth it. And, sorry if things feel a little disconnected. Don't worry, everything will pull together nicely in the next chapter.

Oh, and for those of you who are curious about Zexion's grandpa, well, I can't tell you much. Other than yes, he will become a vital part of the story line. So, no complaining, kay?

**Disclaimer: **It's chapter seven. Can I stop reminding you people that I don't own Kingdom Hearts or anything else I reference in this thing? Guh. I guess not. Guys, seriously though, I don't own this stuff. I don't even really own the idea. I just write what the muses want me to write.

* * *

**Started on:** June 26, 2007

**Finished on: **July 5, 2007

* * *

**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter Seven: Part One**

I don't know what I expected from Zexion. Dating was new to me, in general, and I didn't have a clear picture in mind as to the things we might do. For example, I didn't know if he would try to hold my hand, or walk me to class. I saw other couples do those things, but it seemed like we were the only gay couple in school. So I really had no one to look at for inspiration and expectation.

Only, I wasn't gay. I was still firmly latched onto the idea of my own heterosexuality. Granted, that view was slipping away into the murky waters of bisexuality.

Point is, we were the only 'homosexual' couple that I knew. Of course, there was Riku and Sora, whom Zexion assured me were dating (I pretty much believed him, too, even though they wouldn't admit it). And then there was also Axel and Roxas.

Roxas was being more moody and standoffish than usual, though. Ever since Zexion had so boldly declared Roxas gay, he wouldn't really come around us. Or Axel. Poor guy. He spent all his time chasing after the elusive blonde in a love-sick puppy like way that was actually pretty pathetic.

Maybe that's what he was, love-struck I mean. (I'm sure of it now.)

Anyway. Zexion and I never did anything to betray our growing closeness when we were around other people (even our friends). Those friends, in turn, did the same. So while they must have had their fair share of assumptions, nothing was ever said, in private or otherwise.

When we were alone it was a completely different story, however. We'd go to my apartment and watch movies in a ball on the couch. Or we'd listen to music or read manga together.

Our hands were almost always locked together when we were in the safety of an empty apartment. And a wholly different side of Zexion came out at those times. One that was playfully romantic and cute.

I tried to make him dinner one night, a few weeks after we got together. It wasn't to be anything spectacular, just macaroni and cheese. He must have gotten jealous of the food because not all of my attention was on him and he came up behind me and tugged me out of the kitchen and towards the couch.

"I want to take you out to eat for your birthday," he said as he pulled me down onto the couch.

I shook my head. "No … Someone might see …"

"They don't have to see a date. They can just see two friends going out to celebrate. That happens all the time, Demyx."

His arms were locked around my waist and I just sort of let myself melt against him. "No …"

"Why not?"

"I already told you why. Someone might see."

"Yes, and I told you why that doesn't matter," he lifted my face up to look at him. "Are you ashamed of this?"

I felt my face redden, not really out of embarrassment, though. I think it was more out of shame. Shame because he thought I was ashamed of our relationship. Because I wasn't. "It isn't that, Zexion. It's just … I don't know. It's kind of scary."

"What's scary about it? I want to hold your hand," he took my hand in his. "I want to kiss you," he leaned towards me and kissed my cheek lightly. "I'll even give you money before we go and let you pretend to pay for yourself. If that makes you feel any better."

My cheek burned a little more where he'd kissed me. There was a tingling sensation there that I've never been able to accurately describe. It was blissful though. To say the least.

"I don't feel comfortable with it …"

He sighed and leaned his forehead against mine. "Will you ever let me take you out?"

"Not this soon … It's too soon. Okay?"

"No, not okay," he smiled, not the same soft smile either. This smile was full of mischievousness. "And I'm not going to give up on taking you out."

"I sort of figured …"

"I have about a week to get you to change your mind, right?"

"Yeah. But I'm not gunna."

"Don't say that," he said, the smile slipping from his face. "Because you never know what you might want to do tomorrow when you wake up."

I was in the process of coming up with a witty-ish retort when I heard the sizzling sound of water bowling out of the pot of macaroni. As soon as the noise reached me I was off the couch and in the kitchen trying to fix things.

Granted, it wasn't really that big of a deal. It was, after all, just water, nothing more. But it bothered me that I hadn't been paying close enough attention. I could have ruined it that way (okay, so it takes a lot to ruin macaroni, but, it's possible that I could have, given enough time).

Zexion thought it was funny, though. And while I scrambled around the cramped kitchen, searching for paper towels, he stood in the doorway and laughed.

It's always good to hear that laugh, even when it's directed at you. It has always had something of a calming effect on me. Something about the gentle timbre of his voice and the rarity of his song-like laughter is just beautiful, so far as I'm concerned.

"It isn't funny," I shrieked, lifting the pot from the burner and moving it to a different one. "It's cool that I cook for myself, but my mom would know something was up if she could see this mess."

"Your attention never strays?"

"Not when I'm cooking … And do you have any idea what she would say if she knew I was feeding you?"

"Demyx, you're making it sound like I'm some little stray cat or something."

I sighed and began mopping up the water with a paper towel, never mind that it was boiling hot.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. But my mom is really uptight about that sort of thing."

"I understand. And, as for uptight mum's, you've met mine."

"Yeah … She seems kinda looney …"

The laughter in his voice faded away and was replaced by his gentle smile. "She's a little nutters, yeah. But she wouldn't care if I fed you."

I looked down and tossed the sopping paper towel into the trash can. "You guys have more money than we do. I mean … Some of my family is rich. They live in Chicago and they're steel tycoons or something. But they hate my mom …"

"You're not that bad off Demyx," he crossed the kitchen and put an arm around me. "You have a roof over your head, and you have food to eat. So what if it isn't in the Garden District? And so what if you don't have a lot?" I smiled. "You also have something no one could ever take away from you, regardless of how rich or poor they or you are."

"I do?"

He nodded. "You have me."

I looked up at him, tears welling in my eyes. He was too much for me sometimes, especially during the first few weeks. He was too romantic and too wonderful and I rarely knew what to say to him.

So I didn't say anything. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him. It was the first time I'd initiated something physical between us. And I think we both felt the same electricity between us. Gods know I felt it. And it was so strong I don't know how he couldn't have.

"Thank you …" I whispered. "You may make me uncomfortable sometimes … But, thank you."

He ruffled my hair. "When do I make you uncomfortable?"

"Most of the time."

"Really?"

I thought about it for a second. How often _was_ I uncomfortable? Around our moms. Around other people. But he never pushed that envelope. When we were alone and close I _wasn't_ uncomfortable. I was many things, but never uncomfortable.

"No. Not really."

"Good. Now, tend to your macaroni. Before it boils over again."

I squeaked and ran back over to the stove with the macaroni. I didn't leave its side for the rest of the time it cooked. And when it was done I scavenged for two clean plates, bread, silverware, and butter.

We didn't have a table, strictly speaking. There wasn't really any room for one. But I had a card table in my room and I pulled it into the middle of the living room. Once I had it set up I brought the food and stuff to it and set up the chairs.

"Dinner is served, monsieur," I put on my best French accent and loved the slight way his lip turned up at the corner.

"Do you actually speak French?" He asked as he took his seat.

"Oui, Je parle Français."

He looked up at me and blinked a few times before smiling. I'll have to learn it for you, won't I?"

I laughed then, couldn't help it, really. The idea of French spoken with an English accent was just silly.

"Have you ever tried to speak it before?"

He shook his head and picked up my plate and began to put food onto it. "Never really wanted to," he said. "Why?"

I shrugged and watched him set my plate down and then take his seat (which I did as well). "I just think it would sound funny. I mean, it sounds funny when _I_ do it because I didn't grow up speaking it. And you already have a funny accent."

"Give me something to say."

"Uhm …Je m'apple Zexion."

He shook his head and scooped food onto his plate. "Never mind. I can't make those noises."

I laughed again and started eating. We ate in silence for a while. It wasn't because the food was amazing or anything. It was more likely because neither of us really had anything to say.

"You know," he said once his plate was mostly clean. "You're not a hald-bad cook. Do you make anything else?"

I shrugged. "No, not really. I mean … I can make random noodle-ie type foods. But nothing cool or anything."

He nodded. "I like to cook. Always have. Only problem is that mum doesn't think it's very 'manly' so I never really get to."

"You can cook over here," I stood and snatched his empty plate from him. "Gods know no one else is gonna use the oven or anything."

"You want me to cook something for you tomorrow?"

"I guess."

"Does that mean 'yes?'" He followed me into the kitchen, holding the bread and butter.

"Yeah, it means yes," I tossed the plates and silverware in the sink and took the bread and butter from him. "What are you going to make?"

"Have you ever had scones?"

"What the hell're scones? They sound weird …"

He laughed quietly and opened the refrigerator for me while I put the butter away. "They're sort of like muffins. Only … Better."

"Well, I'm still confused about them …"

"I'll make you some tomorrow. Even though they're technically a breakfast food."

"My mom shouldn't be home in the morning. I think she's working a double tonight …"

He smiled. "Alright, what time do you get up?"

I shrugged. "Six-ish. Sometimes."

He nodded. "I'll be here then, okay?"

"Not like I have a choice, right?"

He made a little mocking face and pulled me against him. My arms went around his waist instinctively and my cheek rested against his chest. "I probably ought to go," he whispered, running a hand through my hair.

"Yeah, my mom will probably be home in a little while to do the nap thing before her next shift."

"Want help cleaning up?"

I shook my head and wanted to say that all I wanted was for him to stay right where he was, with his arms around me. But I barely finished the thought before I was cutting myself off. "I think I can manage."

"Okay," he pulled back a little and kissed my forehead lightly. "Let me take you ought for your birthday."

"No," I said with a laugh and shoved at him. "The answer is and always will be no. Now go on, get. Go home."

He shrugged and I think he tried to pout; it didn't work very well if he did.

"I'll see you in the morning, Demyx."

"Night."

"G'night."

He left and I watched him go down the stairs from behind a peeled-back curtain. I loved the way he carried himself. The way his hands would burrow deep inside his pockets. And the way his feet seemed to never touch the ground when he walked.

I don't know how he moves the way he does, with that odd, almost supernatural gait. But when he moves I'm hypnotized by the gentle motion of his body.

Gods, why, exactly, was I denying that I was gay?

Well, okay, that's probably not a great question. I know exactly why I was denying it. I didn't want to be true.

I was having fun with Zexion. Well, those first few weeks were an education in bliss. But to fully admit what that meant could have destroyed my sanity.

So I was still denying it. When I was alone, I wouldn't admit it, even to myself. And people around me at school must have thought I'd come off the press just as homophobic as the rest of them.

It bothered me, them thinking like that about me. I didn't want people to think I hated or feared gay people. Not because I was gay, but because I always felt, on some level, that _everyone_ had been created equally.

And after all, doesn't it say that somewhere in the United State's Constitution?

When I went to bed that night, after cleaning up, I was thinking about homosexuality and bisexuality and all the things bothering me. I couldn't help it, really. I'm prone to thinking late into the night, especially when I'm on the verge of a spiritual upheaval (not that I've really had many of those).

I don't know when I fell asleep that night. My mother had come and gone. And I was alone in the quiet apartment, with nothing but the soft hum of the city around me to give my solace.

* * *

I woke up early the next morning. Something wonderful was wafting into my room from the kitchen. It smelled like a warm bakery, but also fruit.

It was sweet smelling enough to drive me away from my dream and towards its heavenly aroma. What I found was Zexion standing in the kitchen, wearing a white apron, and looking down a the oven with a clear expression of impatience.

"What time is it?" I asked, covering a yawn.

"Not quite six."

"Didn't I say _six_ is when I get up?"

He nodded. "You did. And these things were supposed to be ready by the time you got up. But they're giving me some trouble."

"Ah." I nodded and leaned against the wall. "How long until they're done?"

"About fifteen minutes. Go ahead and get ready. They'll be done when you are."

I nodded and went back into my room. It seemed _natural_ that he was there to greet me when I woke up. It seemed _right_ that he was the first person I saw and talked to. But as this thought sunk in I realized what it meant.

It meant I was starting to like him more. And that terrified me because as the feeling grew so did my acceptance of it. And in the few minutes it took me to get dressed I was feeling a weird mixture of bubbling fear and warmth.

By the time I was dressed, however, I'd found my stoic switch and managed to shut off the torrent of emotions. It was too much to think about in the morning. Best to just leave it for after school.

"Scones're done."

I trotted into the kitchen and stared at the tray he was sitting on a cleared-off counter-top. The things did look something like muffins. Only the fruity smell coming from them was definitely more palatable than any muffin I'd ever smelled.

"They're pear scones, and here, I brought up some pear butter and juice as well."

"Pear juice?"

He shook his head. "Orange juice, Demyx. Pear juice would just be weird."

I rolled my eyes and drifted towards the tray covered with 'scones.' I was a little apprehensive about the things, as I often am when strange new food is being dealt with.

But, damn, they smelt good!

"Give them a moment to cool," Zexion was behind me, smiling down at his effort and holding a small thing of what I assumed was pear butter.

"Do you eat them like a muffin?"

He sat the pear butter on the cabinet by the tray. "It's pretty easy, really." He looked around the kitchen for a moment, went to a drawer, and got out a knife. "We can eat on paper towels, we'll make less of a mess that way."

I nodded and snatched a few paper towels off the roll. I handed one to him and kept one for myself.

"I want one."

He shrugged. "They're probably still really hot, but go ahead."

I smiled and picked one from the half-dozen or so he'd made. The one I grabbed was hot (not that they all weren't), but it wasn't too hot to hold and handle. I smeared the pear butter on it (it was actually butter with pears_ in it_.)

The apprehension settled back in as I went to take my first bite. I glanced up at Zexion and he nudged my arm towards my mouth and that was all the encouragement I needed to try it.

Like many time in my life, the first bite got me hooked. As soon as I tasted the sweetly soft bread with the squishy pairs inside it, it was all I wanted.

"Zexion … this is … amazing …"

"Why, thank you," something about he glint in his eye unnerved me.

"What?"

"Can I take you out for your birthday?"

I groaned, grabbed another scone and the pear butter, and went into the living room to plop onto the couch.

"You forgot the knife."

I sat everything on the other cushion and stormed back into the kitchen to snatch the knife away from him. When I reached for it he dropped it, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me close to him.

"Let me take you, Demyx," he whispered, his lips mere inches away from my ears.

"No …" I tried to push him away but he was holding me too firmly. "Zexion …"

"Stop telling me no, Demyx."

"I don't want to …"

"You're lying to yourself."

"So?"

He sighed and for a moment it seemed like I could feel his body shudder against me. "You can't be happy this way, Demyx. Lying to yourself will just ultimately hurt you …"

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his chest. "Okay … So I _want_ you to be able to take me. But it's too risky. Why can't you see that? Do you want us to get caught?"

"I hate it when you talk like that. It makes me think that you think there's something wrong with us."

I wrenched myself away from him and looked up at him. "There _isn't_ anything wrong with us. Or with _this_. I get that, I acknowledge that. Doesn't mean I'm gay, and it doesn't mean I want to flaunt that I'm with you. But every time I say _anything_ you automatically assume the worst. Why do you do that?"

"Because you still say you aren't gay. Demyx, you're in a relationship with another _guy_. That means you're _not_ straight."

"Yeah, I _know_ that!" I tried to shove him away but he held me closer. I didn't want to be so close to him. It was too confusing when I was that close to him. "I don't know what I am but _I'm_ _not__gay_."

There were tears in my eyes when I looked up at him. Something in him softened, his anger seemed to melt away and his grip relaxed and became soft and comforting again.

"Demyx, don't cry," he ran a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry. I'll not confront you about it anymore."

Thing was, though, I _wanted_ him to whittle me down until I said yes, because it was the only way I _could_ say yes. I couldn't just let myself give in to him because that meant I would have to admit things I didn't think I was ready to face.

And the more I thought about him giving up on what he wanted the more I wanted to cry. Part of me was said because I couldn't bring myself to give him what he wanted. But another part of me was upset _because_ I was sad.

I didn't want him to see me cry. It was too much emotion to show around another guy. And yeah, I know, that's just the stupid male, testosterone-filled ego-thing that the media enforces. I know that now and I knew that then. But I still held on to that belief. Because it was familiar to me. And I desperately needed _something_ familiar.

"Demyx, it's okay …"

I nodded and looked up at him. "Can we make a compromise?"

"What sort?"

"Instead of us going _out_ for my birthday, will you cook for me?"

He smiled then, and all my tears dried instantly. "Of course I will."

"Okay. And … One other thing?"

"Hmm?"

"You're kinda … squishing me …"

* * *

I've been avoiding the topic of school because I didn't want to bore any of you. But something happened that day that I feel needs to be addressed.

It happened in English class. Sora and I were passing notes about Roxas and Axel (not them as a couple, mind you). The teacher had his back to us, and was scribbling something on the board, and thus not really paying much attention to what we did so long as we were quiet.

Anyway, Sora held the folded piece of paper out to me just as the door opened. My mouth hung open as Zexion strolled, casually, into the room. He didn't look at any of us, but instead kept his eyes locked firmly on his grandfather.

They engaged in a whispered conversation. I don't think anyone in the class could hear, and even if they could they might not have understood (I was still under the impression that English people would sometimes talk in nothing but their strange slang to confuse foreigners; think Austin Powers in Goldmember.)

The conversation didn't last long, one minute, maybe two. And whether Zexion said left his grandfather beaming. However, as soon as Zexion left the room (he _still_ didn't look at me) it seemed like everything went back to normal.

I looked down at my desk and read the note Sora put there.

_What was that about?_

I looked at him and shrugged, but I didn't respond to that or any other notes he passed me for the rest of the class. There were other things on my mind. Things involving Zexion, his grandfather, and their muted conversation.

I had a few theories as to why Zexion would interrupt the class. Most of them involved something with their family. But still, one thing stuck me as far odder than him coming in; he hadn't looked at me, not even once.

Although I didn't like to admit that I enjoyed being with him, another guy, I _did_ enjoy it. And I didn't like to think that maybe he'd been ignoring me for _any_ reason.

There wasn't anything I could do about it, however, seeing as how class was still going on. And so I sat back and tried my best to pay attention to the lesson.

As I've said, I have a very small attention span. I can't remember if I've said that before, probably have. On a good day it was fairly difficult for me to pay attention to an entire lesson without zoning out or writing some thing. And when I had something else on my mind it was more or less impossible.

It was especially difficult for me to take in a lesson with Sora sitting next to me. Something about him makes everyone want to talk to him, even when you know you ought to be doing something else, something productive. I don't know if he's aware of the pull he has on people, but he is aware of how easily he will seek people's attention.

He started reaching over and poking me in the side. After about five minutes of his sneaky pokes I scrawled a quick note out to him:

_Stop that! I'm trying to pay attention!_

After about thirty seconds the paper was back on my desk. _Fine. Be that way._

He didn't bother me after that, and it was nice to be able to try to pay attention without the added burden of Sora. Unfortunately, the lesson that day was really boring. Because of that, I'm going to skip right to the end of class. That's where the cool thing happened. Everything that led up to it was just foreplay.

I gathered my things at the end of class quicker than I usually did. I wanted to go find Zexion and ask about his chat with his grandfather. Before I left the classroom, however, Mr. Michaels called me up to his desk.

He didn't say anything while the class was emptying, but when every student was gone he sat behind his desk and looked at me.

"I know more about you than you probably thing," he said, hands folded in front of him. "Zexion tells me things, little anecdotes and what not. I'm sure you saw him come in this morning and do just that.

"Do you have any idea what he wanted to tell me?"

I wasn't sure what game he was playing, but I shook my head. "No sir, I don't."

He smiled. "He came to tell me you're an aspiring writer."

"But I didn't tell him that …"

"Is it true?"

"Yes, but …"

"No buts, he has his ways of gathering information.

"The point is, he told me because I am part of an international group of English Lit. teachers who hold an annual writing competition. He wants you to join, and I think it would be wonderful."

"You've never seen my writing …"

"I've seen your papers and I know your technical writing skills are well up to par."

I smiled, it was nice to be complemented like that. Especially by a teacher I was quickly starting to idolize.

"When is the competition?"

"Two months from now. Can you have a short story written in that time?"

I nodded, though I wasn't sure. I wrote, yes, but only in my spare time and it was usually fairly random and incoherent. "I can have _something_ by then."

His smile widened and he waved me off. "Better get to your next class then. I'll bring you some more details tomorrow."

I nodded and went to the door. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me, lad. Thank Zexion."

"Right. I will."

I ran out of the classroom with the intent of going to find Zexion and ran into him. Apparently he had been waiting for me.

"I assume Granddad told you?"

I nodded and smiled. "But how did you know I write?"

He fished a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and dangled it in front of my face. "You left your window open the other night and _this_ blew out. It's rather good, albeit a tick naughty."

I snatched the paper from him and shoved it into my pocket. I had a feeling as to what it was and what was written on it. And I didn't like the idea of him having read it.

"You know," he said with a small laugh. "I never knew or thought your neck would be your sensitive spot. Or was that part fiction?"

I blushed, deeply enough that I thought my face would melt. "Shut up!"

He laughed again and slid an arm around my waist to pull me into a hug. I stiffened against the touch but didn't bat him away.

"I'm surprised," he whispered. "You aren't squawking."

I tugged away from him and shot him something like a glare. "Shut up. I don't squawk."

He smiled and shrugged. "Whatever you say," he glanced down at his watch. "Better get going, not long now until the bell rings."

I nodded and waved before running to my next class.

My already crappy attention span suffered for the rest of the day. I was too preoccupied with the upcoming contest. It was exciting, to be _wanted_ in something. In an _international_ writing contest.

I talked about it all through lunch, brainstorming ideas I might or might not use. No one really had any helpful ideas; though, honestly only Zexion even offered any.

"I think you should write about a gay teenage dealing with his sexual orientation in an uptight city."

I stared at him blankly for a moment before saying, "I wouldn't know how to write a gay kid."

Everyone's eyes locked onto us, but Zexion didn't say anything. That was hard for him, I could tell. But I was happy that he was finally choosing to employ some of his cliché English manners (that I was starting to think he didn't possess.)

Riku and Sora were sitting off to one side of the group, talking about something in hushed tones. I was curious about that, especially because Sora wasn't grinning the way he usually did. He looked … Nervous.

They turned towards us an Riku was smiling, granted he looked nervous as well. "Hey, guys, can we bug you for a sec?"

We all stopped our random chattering and looked at them. Riku slung an arm around Sora's shoulder. "There's a rumor rippling through us about Sora and I being a couple." Everyone nodded. "And … We're fairly sure you all believe it and would believe it even if we kept ignoring it."

"We're not gonna though," Sora said. "We're, uh, actually going to confirm it."

I think my mouth dropped open. Like I've already said, I had my assumptions, but they were unjustified before that point. And to hear them so plainly say that they were a couple …

"So … You guys're gay?"

Sora blushed and nodded. Riku did the same, sans the blush.

I blushed then, and looked to Zexion who was eyeing them with what looked like jealousy. At the time I didn't think anything of it, but I should have realized he wanted me to jump up with the same proclamation.

I couldn't do that though. I just couldn't.

"Did you hear about Demyx entering a writing contest?" It was Axel, and I hadn't even known he was there (whether he spoke then to avert the uncomfortable silence or because he didn't care, I'm not sure).

Riku and Sora shook their heads in unison and we were off to talking about my future career as a writer (not that I thought I had much of one, mind you).

The rest of the day is a blur, however. Everything except Zexion walking me home, anyway.

"So, what do you think about Sora and Riku coming out?"

I shrugged. "It's not like we didn't already know."

"You didn't believe me though."

"I didn't _want_ to believe you."

"Are you trying to pick a fight? Because it sounds like it."

He laughed. "No, lovely, not a fight. I was just curious. The accent makes me sound snappish sometimes, I assume."

"Normally I like your accent."

"I like hearing you say you like things about me."

I rolled my eyes. "That's just because you think I'm only half-assing everything."

"Well, you are, aren't you?"

"That isn't the point."

"What is?"

"I don't know …" I laughed, quietly, hesitantly. I'm not sure what about the situation struck me as funny, but something hit that chord in me.

"You're silly, Demyx."

"Eh. Maybe."

He took hold of my hand when our building came into sight and I didn't try to pull my hand away. His hand felt too good, too warm, too comforting.

"This is risky …"

"Then take your hand away from mine."

"I don't want to."

"Then don't."

"Is it really that simple?"

"I wish, Demyx. I wish."

* * *

**A/N: **The plot bunnies did not want it to end there, believe me. They wanted it to keep going and going all through his birthday party and whatever's gonna happen with the Zexion thing but I just had to put my foot down! Sadly, some of the bunnies were injured in the altercation, but they're still at my side and I'll be back soon for another update! (I refuse to say how soon, because every time I make a promise I end up having to break it ...)

**.:Next Time:. **  
This is only part one of what occurs for Demyx's birthday. The party happens next time, and everyone will be there, including some people you haven't been formally introduced to. We're talking the organization, people. Not all of them, mind you. But some are getting ready to make their grand debut. And really, what could possibly go wrong?


	8. Part Two

**A/N:** I feel rather bad about how long it took me to update this. There are all sorts of excuses running through my mind, but I'm not going to use them. Instead, I'm just going to say that when the plot bunnies tell you that a chapter is not supposed to end somewhere, just go with the flow and listen to the bloody bunnies. Noncompliance tends to lead to not writing any fanfiction for a few months. I'm sorry, but I have learned me lesson, I now listen to my bunnies. (Doesn't help that they hired yakuza … Really …)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Kingdom Hearts, unfortunately. If I did, some things would be different. For instance, Riku and Sora would habitually run off to have impromptu butt sex, as would Leon and Cloud and a handful of other people. Goofy and Donald wouldn't be in the picture, the King sure as hell wouldn't be Mickey, and Sephiroth would be more broken than he already is. But like I said, I don't own it.

* * *

**Started on: **July 7, 2007

**Finished on: **August 30, 2007

* * *

**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter Eight: Part Two**

For a lot of people, birthdays must be an enjoyable occasion. One rife with laughter and time well spent with friends and family. For those of you who enjoy the day of your birth, once a year, I doubt you really understand and appreciate how lucky you are.

Every year I habitually dread my birthday as a day when I have to deal with making plans with my mother. Some years we agree fairly easily as to what my party ought to consist of, but that is the exception, not the rule.

"Hey, mom, you know my birthday is in a week, right?"

She looked up from the television and her bottle of beer long enough to shoot me a small smile and a nod.

"Well, uh … I was wondering. This year, can I have a sleep over? Please?"

"A sleepover?" She mimicked. "Why do you want to have a sleep over? Isn't that something girls usually do?"

"Well … No, not really." Ever since I'd started spending more time writing and with Zexion she'd been hypersensitive to my degree of masculinity. "I just thought it would be fun."

"We don't have room here, Demyx." She said it matter-of-factly. And for a moment I considered letting it go at that, but then I remembered what Sora had said.

"Well, yeah, I know. But … Sora said that if it's cool with you we could have it at their house."

"That's nice of them."

I waited a few minutes in silence before quietly proceeding. "Well, what do you think?"

"I'll think about it." I groaned theatrically. "What?"

"I told Sora I'd let him know today."

She laughed quietly, and I wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing. "How long ago did he suggest you have your party at his house?"

"Uh … A while ago."

"I kind of thought so."

"Well, whaddaya say?"

She nodded. "Alright Demyx. Go call Sora and let him know."

I didn't need to be told twice. I ran to the phone, picked it up, and dialed Sora's number. It rang three times, and then a gruff voice answered.

"Leonhart residence." You wouldn't expect two words to sound scary, would you? Well, if you think that, you've obviously not heard much of Leon.

"Erm ..." I squeaked, completely put out by the fact that it was Leon.

"Which one?"

"Sora," I had my voice back under control, but just barely.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sora, it's Demyx!"

"Oh! Hey, Dem. What's up?"

"Well, I talked to my mom about having my party at your house."

"What did she say?"

"She said it's cool. But I dunno if she'll go or not."

"Why?"

"I think Leon and Cloud weird her out or something."

"Ah, well ... She's a little uptight about some things, isn't she?"

She was looking at me from the living room, a suspicious glint in her eyes. I took that moment to retreat into my bedroom and closed the door behind me.

"Well ... Yeah. She sort of is ..."

"Does she know about you and Zexion?"

Color and heat flooded my cheeks. "There's nothing--"

"Demyx."

I sighed. "Okay ... Maybe there is ... I dunno ... But she doesn't know."

"That's probably a good thing, really."

"Well, I don't think she needs to know that there _might_ be something going on."

"Y'know, I thought you'd accepted everything."

"Can we talk about something else?"

"You took his hand last night."

"How do you _know_ that?!"

He giggled. "Can't tell you." There was a short pause. "And I gotta go. Cloud wants me to do something."

"Sora, wait!"

"Gotta go, Dem. Bye!"

He hung up without waiting for me to say goodbye. I stared down at the phone for a long moment, listening to the dial tone, before finally clicking off the phone.

"Idiot," I mumbled and flopped onto my bed.

There were things I ought to have done. I had a story to write for English class, and that was giving me a decent bit of trouble. I'm also fairly certain I had some homework assignment I hadn't done.

I almost had myself motivated to get up and write something when there was a knock on my window. I looked up, half-expecting to see Sora, and saw a flash of periwinkle that took me a moment to realize who it belonged to.

He had the window open and was climbing into my room before I had even sat up. "'Ello," he said with a soft smile and a half-wave.

"Hi," I muttered, finally dragging myself off the bed.

"I've decided to cook for you the day _before_ your birthday. So long as you don't oppose it."

I nodded, a little numb. It was weird, surreal, to have him just appear out of nowhere like he did. I didn't like it, it threw me off balance.

"Is your mum home?" He crossed the room and sat on the bed.

"Yeah, she is ... Actually."

He nodded and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Do you want to come over for tea tomorrow? I can help you with any homework you have."

"Homework hasn't got hard yet."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him, into a hug. "I want to spend more time with you."

My first reaction was, as always, to want to pull away. Only, it wasn't such a strong urge as I usually experienced. Something about me was changing; the part of me that cared about being close to him in a negative way was being replaced with something else.

Also, there was a strange warmth spreading throughout my body. Something associated, I'm sure, with his strong arms, wrapped gently around my waist.

I hesitated only a moment before slowly twining an arm around his neck. He sighed quietly as I did, and I could feel his lips spread into a smile against my stomach.

"I think my mom is suspicious of us," my voice was low, scarcely a whisper.

"She has no proof of anything."

"I know but ... Zexion ... She can't find out. I don't know that ... That this is who I am ..."

He looked up at me, pulling me a fraction of an inch closer. "I _will_ get you to accept this."

I flared up a little, I didn't like the way he said that. It made me think he wouldn't settle for anything less than me coming out of the closet. It ... Scared me.

"I might _never_ accept it," I murmured, though I was trying for something that sounded stronger.

He sighed. "Lovely, don't get ruffled."

I wanted to pull away from him then; wanted to and tried, but he held me close. "Zexion ... Let go of me."

"No," he said, and I wanted to throw it in his face that he said he'd always stop when I asked. "Listen to me for a moment. Okay?" I nodded, not really wanting to but not seeing how I had a choice. "Close your eyes," when I didn't he unwound one arm from my waist and gently put it over my eyes. "Picture yourself somewhere you think of as safe. Somewhere that no one can see you or pass judgment. Now picture me, beside you."

The image was clear and came to mind before I was able to dispel the thought. I was standing in a grassy field, sprinkled liberally with pink and yellow flowers. Zexion sat a few feet away, running his hands through the plants.

I went over and sat by him, conscious to the fact that there seemed to be nothing to the imaginary world but the field we sat in.

"So this is what safety feels like?"

He nodded and leaned towards me. His lips met mine ... Gently ...

"Demyx. What are you seeing?"

I wrenched myself away from him and glared as fiercely as I could (which, admittedly, wasn't very intimidating, I'm sure). "Fine. I like you. I'll admit that, not that I hadn't already. I'm not gay but I like you. Okay? Happy?"

He smiled, but looked sad when he did. "Not quite, but almost."

Personally, I thought he was asking a bit too much of me. And it sort of pissed me off. "What do you want from me, Zexion?"

He became serious suddenly, all traces of that sad smile vanishing in an instant. "Kiss me."

I blushed. "Don't wanna."

"Do you not want to because you're unsure of--"

I cut him off, because in that instant my mind changed. My lips brushed his for the barest of second, and then I turned away from him, my face burning. "I'm not unsure about liking you. Didn't you hear me say that a minute ago?"

He must had been too shocked to speak, because he didn't. the silence just stretched around us and enveloped us in a crushing sort of way. My mind was working frantically, going over and over what I'd just done. The velvet feeling of his lips hadn't left mine, and I reached up to touch my tingling lips ...

"Zexion ..."

He raised his hand to stop me and I did; my voice had been weak anyway. "I shouldn't have pushed you to that, Demyx. I'm sorry."

I turned back towards him and sat beside him. "You didn't push me to it, not really. I ..." I blushed. "I _wanted_ to." He looked up at me and I saw the question there. "Honest," I crossed my heart with two fingers.

"I keep forgetting how much younger than me you are ..."

"I'm not that young!"

He shrugged. "You've not done as many things. So, in ways, you're loads younger. Don't be offended by it, I'm just saying ..."

I nodded. "I know what you're saying."

We sat by each other in silence for a few seconds that seemed longer than they really were. He stood without saying anything and ruffled my already messy hair.

"Hey," I batted his hand away, but I was smiling.

"Just saying g'bye, goof," he leaned down and quickly kissed my forehead.

"You're leaving?" Alarm welled up in me, I didn't want him to go.

"Mum's making me cook tonight."

I nodded. "Okay ..."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Kay."

He left the same way he'd came. I watched him go, remembering the kiss, contimplating my quickly dissolving denial, and wondering when my newfound happiness would come crashing down around me.

Because, honestly, happiness is a fickle beast.

* * *

The days before my birthday passed in a blur. I went to school (gave Mr. Michaels the rough draft of the short story I was working on), went home, and just basically fell back into my usual routine.

Zexion and I didn't breech the subject of my questionable sexuality. We just hung out, played video games and that sort of thing. It was nice, really, because we got to know each other very well.

Nevertheless, on the morning before my birthday, I was something of a nervous wreck.

My mother was at work, as she was schedules to be the entire day. So I really oughtn't to have worried about that; but I was. She had, on occasions, come home randomly because of something at work. I didn't want that to happen ... Nothing good could come of it.

I was nervous as all hell, waiting on Zexion to show. And when he clambered out of the window and sauntered into the living room, my nerves didn't improve.

"I have a door, y'know."

"The fire escape is quicker."

He was carrying two bulging plastic sacks. I couldn't tell what was in them, but I could assume. The bags ended up on the kitchen counter, which was spotless for the first time in a while.

"It'll take a while," he said, pulling things from one of the bags.

"What are you making?"

"You'll see." He looked at me, a smile playing on his features, trying to win out against the frown. "You're still in your pajamas. Why don't you go shower? Relax a bit. I can manage here on my own."

I shrugged. "I guess ..."

He waved a hand at me dismissively and turned back to his food preparation. I sighed and wandered into the bathroom.

I didn't really like the idea of taking a shower with him there, the energy of him was just too overpowering. Something about his presence seemed to follow me around, washing over me ...

Okay, give me a break. I was about to turn 14. I'd hit puberty. My hormones were out of whack. And the only thing I wanted to play with was myself.

A cold shower was in order, I thought. So I turned it a good way into the blue and pulled off my cotton pajamas.

When the icy water his me I remembered why I hated cold showers, and why I could rarely keep my resolve long enough to actually stick it out through the entire thing.

I don't know if you've ever tried to take a cold shower or not, but it's horrible. Your entire body breaks out in goose bumps, you tremble, your teeth chatter, and it's damn near impossible to draw a breath. Something about the cold shocks your lungs into noncompliance.

Basically, if you've never done it, I don't recommend you change that.

I flicked the knob back towards the red and huddled closer to the water as it warmed. The effect was immediate; I could breathe freely, I wasn't chattering. It was nice. _Another_ part of me though so as well, not just my mind.

Ignorance, I decided, was best so far as my lower section was concerned. It didn't need attention nearly as badly as it thought it did.

I washed my hair and lounged about in the warmth until it started to dip back into coolness. I found it almost sad, really, because I was so comfortable, even though I could still feel Zexion pressing in all around me.

When the water's lowering temperature became uncomfortable, I turned it off and groped about for a towel. I pulled it into the shower and dabbed it on myself until I was relatively dry.

Then I realized something, and, if you're quick enough you might have noticed it, too. I'd forgotten something when I'd rushed into the shower.

I'd left my change of clothes in my room, in my closet. Where, strictly speaking, they belonged.

There wasn't much I could do, really, except wrap the towel around my waist and skirt into my bedroom. The whole while blushing madly and hoping Zexion wouldn't see me.

Something distracted me while I was searching for a suitable change of clothes. A heavenly smell was permeating the apartment, attacking my senses with its sweetly fishy smell.

Have I mentioned how much I like fish? Probably not. But, I do. And not _just_ fish. Any manner of seafood excites my pallet. Be it raw, like sushi, or fried, or baked. Octopus, squid, sea snail, lobster ...

My mouth waters just remembering it. And that's what it was doing then. Watering in a delightfully distracting way that made me momentarily forget why I was standing in the middle of my room in nothing but a towel.

I say momentarily because it only took a little over an instant to remember who was standing in the other room.

Nothing I owned, save for my school uniform, was really very nice, as I've said. So I ended up settling for my pair of jeans that had the least amount of holes in them, and a tank top vaguely resembling one of those wife-beater things, only it was black and not nearly as trashy.

I left the towel lying on the floor and meandered back into the kitchen.

"It smells good."

He didn't jump at the abrupt end to the silence like I would have, merely nodded and continued doing something to the food.

"What is it? I'm curious."

"Lobster bisque."

"Really?" It wasn't something I'd ever had, but I'd always wanted to try it. (Like I said, anything fishy lives pretty close to my heart.)

"I've never had it before."

"I was hoping you would say that."

Neither of us said anything for a moment and I had a chance to take in his appearance. He was wearing his tight-fitting black jeans, a snug gray sweater that looked altogether too hot for the climate (though it looked good with the sleeves rolled up). Over his clothes he wore an off-white apron.

Cute. Really.

"It isn't done yet."

"How long?"

"Half an hour. Probably less."

"You seem unsure ..."

"I ought to. I've never made it before."

I rolled my eyes and padded into the living room, hair dripping around my shoulders. I flopped onto the couch and pulled my knees up to my chest.

It felt normal, him being there to cook for me like he was. I knew I could get used to it, to having him there to take care of me and to keep me company.

"Hey Zexion?"

"Hmm?" He looked back at me, hair pushed behind his ears.

"Never mind ..."

He looked like he might let it go, but I really don't think he's capable of such a thing. "Funny, it sounded to me like you had something on your mind."

"Eh ... I did, but it's nothing, honest."

He shrugged and went back to fiddling with the food, and I knew that was the only reason he was letting it go for the time being. I was glad he did, though, because I'd almost said something I didn't really want him to know. It was way too soon to start spouting quasi-romantic one liners about how comfortable I was starting to feel with him. (Not to mention it might have given him ideas I wasn't sure I wanted him to have.)

My thoughts, therefore, remained safely inside my head where I felt they belonged. I didn't want to think about anything, however, and the only thing around to distract me was the television

The thing was set on a local channel. A short, bald man with a shining red face was railing about something or another that I could hear because it was on mute. I could see a church steeple in the background.

I turned it, quickly, not even thinking to take it off mute. My mother was watching televangelists again. That only happened when something dodgy was going on around her.

Given how paranoid I was, you'd probably expect a few red flags to have sprung up. But ... Nothing happened, nothing really clicked ...

"I think this is actually going to be done a lot sooner ..."

I looked up at him again, and a decent amount of time must have passed (though I didn't realize it) because steam was billowing around him, making his hair frizz out in a really unflattering (but oddly attractive) way.

"This is going to be a disaster, isn't it?"

He glanced at me and tried to smile, but his smiles were usually soft, on a good day. "I know the _theory_ behind the dish. One would assume that would be enough."

I giggled, the image of Zexion googleing the theory of lobster bisque. The look he shot me tapered off the giggle before it could turn into an actual laugh.

"Do you have a hair tie?"

I stared blankly at him for a moment before nodding. His hair didn't seem long enough to pull back into anything substantial. But when I handed him a black hair tie he managed to tug the offending strands out of his face and keep them back.

"I didn't know your hair would go all frizzy like that."

He shrugged, switching off the oven and everything as he did. "IT was hard to manage in London."

"Why?"

He fixed me with a look somewhere between incredulous and sad. "You don't know anything about London, do you?"

It was my turn to shrug. "I know that Big Ben is there …"

He shook his head, but not in a way that negated my statement. "I'll have to take you sometime."

"I'll never me able to afford a plane ticket."

He looked back at me with a steady gaze and he removed everything from the heat. "_I'll_ get you there Demyx."

I smiled and shrugged a little. "Okay, Zexion."

He rolled his eyes in a rather petulant way as he turned back to the steaming food. "This'll be ready to eat in about a minute."

"'Kay. I'll set the table."

I half expected him to protest, to say that I should just sit down and let him do all the work, but he didn't. He let me set the table for two and make everything as pretty as I could.

Not that I really made it that aesthetically pleasing, however.

The food looked good as he carried it over and sat it on the table. The lobster was red and somewhat shiny (I think he put lemon juice on the thing or something).

"I hope it tastes okay," he sounded nervous. "Like I said, I've never made it before."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

I didn't really know how to go about eating the dish. It was foreign to me, even with the amount of seafood I'd been introduced to. So instead of looking like a fool, I waited until Zexion started eating and followed suit.

I don't know how to describe the food. It wasn't bad tasting, not exactly. But it also wasn't my favorite. It was … Well, interesting.

The highlight of the meal wasn't the food, it was the simple conversation.

"Your birthday party is tomorrow night, right?"

I nodded. "Are you going?" A thin thread of panic laced itself into my voice.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"You don't like Roxas."

He shook his head. "It isn't that I don't like him. He's grown on me."

"Really?"

He nodded but didn't say anything for a moment. I don't know what he was thinking about but I sort of wish I could know. He's an interesting person, and I'd love to know more about the things inside his head. Unfortunately, however, I have to wait for him to open his mouth.

"We ought to do something for winter break."

I looked up, not expecting the topic to steer that way. "Like what?"

"That trip to London I was talking about."

I bit my lip. "I don't think my mom would go for that …"

"Why not? She sees us as friends; I want my friend to see where I'm from. There's nothing wrong with that. And besides, what mother wouldn't want their son to go to a foreign country?"

"Mine."

"I'll have my mum talk to her when we get closer to the date."

"Won't work," I was getting a little grumpy, and I'm not really sure why.

"Demyx, try being a little positive, why don't you?"

I tried smiling at him and it must have worked to some degree because he flashed me a little ghost smile. "I'll try."

"Good. How's your lobster?"

* * *

The next day was my birthday party and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I was nervous, as I had every right to be given who I was friends with. Yet at the same time there was a bubbling sense of excitement growing in my core.

When my mom drug me out of bed to wish me a happy birthday I threw my arms around her neck and hugged her tightly. I … love my mom. Irregardless of everything that has happened.

"I can't believe you're 14 …" She was returning the hug; it felt … nice. "And you're starting to fill out. I bet the girls are all over you."

Blush colored my cheeks and I prayed it away. "Mom, I've got more important things on my mind." Well it wasn't a lie, not really …

"Oh, right, my little scholar." She laughed, and I couldn't tell if she was mocking me or not. "Well, time to get up. You've got a party starting soon."

"Soon? What time is it?"

"Noon."

That woke me up. The party was at two. I launched out of my bed and flew to my closet (my mom chuckled as I did and left the room).

I wanted to dress nicely for my party, or, as nice as I could. Of course, I ran into the same problem I always ran into, that being that I didn't own anything particularly nice. Like usual, the best I could do was a pair of baggy jeans that didn't have too many holes in them and a tee shirt that fit somewhat snugly.

I ran to the bathroom and regarded my image for a moment. It was doing something weird, sticking up at the top in what was almost one of those faux hawk things. I splashed a couple handfuls of water onto it and tried to persuade it to behave (not that it really did).

There was a knock on the door but I ignored it, figuring my mom would get it; I was still trying to coax my hair into a less gravity defying style.

"Cute," someone whispered a few minutes later and I about jumped out of my skin. He laughed quietly, playfully; I love that sound.

"Don't. Scare me. Like that."

He shrugged. "Aren't you supposed to have left about an hour ago?"

"I just got up."

"So I can tell."

"Zexion! I'm trying to …"

He laid a hand on my shoulder and I calmed almost instantly. "Quiet, Demyx. I'll get my mom to lend me her car."

"She'd do that?"

"If I explained the circumstances to her, maybe." He paused for a moment, then added. "Though I'm not certain how valid my license is here …"

I blanched a little. "I think walking would be okay, thanks."

He smiled, obviously in a good mood. "I'm a good driver. Granted, I'm use to driving on the other side of the road …"

"Uh huh," I walked past him and into my room to dig out a duffel bag from under my bed and start shoving some clothes into it. "I'd rather not die on my birthday."

"You can't deny the irony."

"_You_ can't be serious."

He shook his head, leaning against the door frame. Gods … Does he know how provocative that looked to me? Probably …

"I was joking."

I zipped the bad and turned to him, my face red and my breath a little winded. "Let's go."

He nodded and led me out of the apartment. Once we were on the street he took my bag and I noticed his sleek black one for the first time.

"I can carry that …"

"I know you can, but I like to feel needed."

I bit back a comment about how he _was_ needed and tried to pass it off as birthday excitement. "Fine," I ended up mumbling in a somewhat sulky way.

"Cheer up Demyx, it's your birthday after all."

I looked at him, vaguely registering that our roles seemed to have been reversed. He seemed to be elated, in a perfect mood. While I was acting positively surly.

"You're nervous, aren't you?"

"Why is that?"

"It comes with being friends with my friends."

"How so?"

"Well, let's see, three years ago Axel and Roxas tried to give me a Chocobo, which is essentially a huge chicken in case you don't know. It attacked me, and I ended up in the emergency room. I have a scar, ask me about it sometime. Then, two years ago Axel and Roxas bought me a katana. _That_, ended in another scar. And last year … they caught a Moomba …"

"They _caught_ a Moomba?"

I nodded. "And it attacked me. _Now_ do you see why I dread my party?"

"I'll protect you."

"Wha--"

"I'll protect you. From whatever they try to give you."

I blushed, feeling a surge of gratitude; which I quickly tried to stifle. "I doubt they do anything stupid. Leon said that if they do anything again that results in a hospital trip he'd kill Roxas and tell Axel's older brother, which is who he lives with. And whom you haven't met yet, but he's crazy."

"Is that why Axel is crazy?"

I shrugged. "Probably. Personally I think he's just really stupid."

He laughed a little. "About those scars?"

"I'll show you later." I don't know why I even told him to ask about them. They were all on my torso and I wasn't certain I _wanted_ him to see me without a shirt. But my mouth has always gotten me in trouble.

The walk didn't take as long as it usually did, or at least, it didn't seem to. Something about the easy conversation seemed to convince the distance to shorten and the house to rush to meet us.

Sora and Roxas' house didn't look any different, but experience told me to be wary of the nearly certain explosion of decorations waiting inside. We walked up the path to the door, cautiously on my part; half expecting some angry Moomba or deranged bird to come rushing towards us.

I was _mildly_ disappointed when nothing happened.

Zexion got to the door before I did and knocked with a swift kick (both his hands _were_ full). We waited for a moment, and then Cloud came to the door. His face was drawn, obviously there were already more there than just Sora and Roxas.

"You're late," he said, his voice was a little lower than usual, gruff, almost.

"Sorry, who all's here?"

"Sora, Roxas, and _Axel_." There was venom dripping from Axel's name.

"Right ... I'll see if I can reign them in."

"Good luck. Leon's been trying all morning."

We walked past him and down into the basement. There were no decorations until we reached the stairwell. Once there we were greeted with what looked like a streamer and confetti explosion.

"They really go all out, don't they?"

I shrugged. "They'll be cleaning it up for a month probably."

He smiled again, and I knew he was teetering on the edge of laughter. "It seems like they have to clean a lot."

"More than you know," we rounded the tiny corner and were met with a scrambling scene that seemed to consist mostly of Axel and Roxas trying to hide something.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Axel growled, sitting on something that squealed loudly.

"What are you sitting on?"

"Hey Rox, take care of him."

Roxas rushed forward and took me by the arm. Regardless of the fact that I'm bigger than he is, he managed to lead me up the stairs with Zexion in tow.

"Roxas ... What's going on?"

"Nothin.' Eat a sandwich."

"I don't want--"

"Shush." He looked between us and darted back down the stairs.

I must have looked sick or something because Zexion was looking at me with something like worry. "Are you okay?"

"They're planning something and I'm going to end up getting hurt. I _always_ end up getting hurt."

"Did I say I'd protect you?"

"Yeah ... But ..."

"When they give you your present, I'll be there to keep you safe, okay?"

I nodded sullenly. "'Kay ..."

Honestly, I don't know why we didn't just tell Leon.

* * *

People started showing up around 2:30. The first to arrive were Kairi and Naminé, followed closely after by Wakka and Riku. They all greeted me with smiles and a few hugs and everyone seemed rather happy to be there.

Riku's first order of business after that was to run off downstairs, presumably to Sora. He looked paler than usual, but I cropped it up to lack of sleep or allergies. Kid was tough, after all.

Kairi, Naminé, and Wakka stayed upstairs with Zexion and I.

"Err ..."

Kairi stuck her hand out to Zexion. "I'm Kairi, I don't think we've met."

Zexion smiled. Personally, I think he was just amazed that I had any friends with decent manners. "I'm Zexion."

She nodded, shook his hand, and then he and Naminé fell into silent whispers.

"So," Kairi said a few moments later. "You're Demyx's boyfriend?"

Zexion nodded, I blushed. "That's right."

The two girls collapsed into giggles and Naminé said. "Why is everyone we know gay?"

"I'm not gay!"

"Oh, Demmy," Zexion mouth 'Demmy' after Kairi said it. "We've known for ages!"

"Yeah, well, you're wrong. I. Am not. Gay."

She looked like she might respond, but before she could a high-pitched scream sliced through the house. So far as we could tell, it came from the basement.

Zexion and I ran down the stairs, sure that Leon and Cloud would follow. Zexion got to the bottom first and gasped.

The rug was on fire. And not just a little fire, either. It spread to the couch while we stood there, gaping, catching hold of Axel's pant leg as it did.

He yelped and batted at his leg, jumping off the couch and fleeing the flame.

About that moment, Leon and Cloud clattered down the stairs. Cloud looked horrified, scared, even. Leon, however, stared at the fire with cold, calm, hatred.

"Cloud, call 911. Now."

Cloud nodded and ran upstairs. Leon grabbed a blanket off the second couch (more of a love seat, really) and made to smoldering the fire. He dented it pretty well, managed to hold it off and what not. But at that point he barked at us to get the hell outside and so I'm not sure what else happened.

Axel's leg ended up being burned pretty bad. It was gross, really. Because ... Well, we could smell the charred flesh. But he wasn't acting like he was in pain. He was actually making jokes ...

"Looks like I get to go back to see the nurses, eh?" He laughed, even as Roxas shot him a deadly glare laced with poison and, well, fire. "Calm down Rox. Doesn't even hurt that bad."

"Yeah, right. You're a dumbass."

Their spat might have continued, but Cloud came running out of the house, face pale and drawn. "Is everyone okay?"

Axel raised his hand. "I'm not."

Cloud's eyes snapped onto Axel. "Yeah, well, you started the fire. Didn't you?"

"I ... No! Why do you always assume--"

"Is everyone else okay? Riku?"

Riku nodded, he was breathing heavily, sitting on the ground by Sora. "I'm cool."

Cloud nodded, just as the sirens reached them. "They can get here in under five minutes ..." he was muttering to himself. "They've been here too many times ... Oh god! Leon!" He ran back into the house, leaving the door standing open.

"He makes it sound like I caught the house on fire or something."

"Well ... You did, didn't you?" Kairi snapped.

"No!"

"Then who did? Hmm?"

"Uh ... Hehe. We'll talk about that later ... If they find it ..."

"No! We'll talk about it now!"

"You're not my mother."

"If I were your mother, Axel, I would have strangled you a long time ago."

"Uh huh. Original retort."

"Guys. Shush it. The 'medics are here."

"Oh, joy," Axel murmured mirthlessly. "Here we go again."

I sighed and leaned against Zexion, feeling like the party was ruined but that there wasn't anything else that could possibly go wrong.

Zexion threw an arm around my shoulder as the paramedics ran over to us, and as the firefighters ran into the house.

"You do?"

"Yeah. You're thinking things couldn't possibly get worse."

"Yeah ... Sort of ... A little hope, y'know?"

He nodded and kissed me quickly. "Happy birthday Demyx."

I smiled, honestly believing the worst was over. And that things would go smoothly for a while.

I should have known that wasn't true. Because something _always_ happens. And, oh, man ... As they say, when it rains ... It pours.

* * *

**A/N: **.::.stares at the text.::. ... .::.kicks it.::. I hate this chapter. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. It took too long, and it isn't GOOD enough. Please don't give up on this fic because of this chapter, if you end up hating it as much as I do. And, now that I'm back in school, I'll probably be able to update normally. I mean ... I SWEAR I will not wait that long ever, ever again.

**EDIT: **I went through and fixed the errors that were pointed out to me. If you see any more, please let me know in a review. Because, honestly, I'm just too lazy to read through this chapter again (doesn't help that I hate it). Also, chapter nine will be up by 9/14/07. Promise.

And I know I said the Organization was going to come into this chapter but the plot bunnies changed their mind! I'm so sorry! They WILL be introduced later. Trust me. Things are about to get serious, and all ... Plot-oriented. ... Oh, bugger. You'll see.


	9. The Walls Came Tumbling Down

**A/N: **I briefly touched upon the fact that the actual plot is going to start being seen in this chapter. And, well, I don't want to give anything away, but the plot does thicken here (to be completely cliché about it).

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Kingdom Hearts. Yada, yada, yada.

**Spell check o' the chapter: **Zexion - sexing

* * *

**Started on: **September 4, 2007

**Finished on: **September 12, 2007

* * *

**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter Nine: The Walls Came Tumbling Down**

The paramedics loaded Axel into the back of the ambulance. As they did, the driver stood talking to us about what had happened. And eventually his eyes fell onto Riku, who was still sitting on the ground, looking paler than normal.

"Are you okay?"

Riku nodded and tried to wave the man away. "I'll be fine."

The 'medic kneeled beside him, a look of drawn concern on his face. "Do you have asthma?"

Riku grinned and waggled a hand holding an inhaler. "I'm cool. Go mess with someone who needs it."

Sora groaned and turned away, and you probably would have too if you had been near Riku and that paramedic. It was scary, really, watching them stare each other down. Then again, I might be a weenie.

Riku won though, and the man went back to the ambulance and hoisted himself into the driver's seat.

"Excellent, Riku," Roxas muttered, staring where Axel had disappeared. "Really."

"Oh, whatever."

Sora was looking back at the house, and eventually my attention wandered there as well. Cloud and Leon were standing just in front of the door, doing what looked like arguing in hushed tones. Or at least it was hushed, until Leon raised his voice.

"The little bastards had a baby Firemane, Cloud! You do know what that is, don't you?" Roxas disappeared somewhere.

"Of course I know what a … Can you lower your voice?" Cloud pulled Leon toward him and their argument dropped back beyond my range of hearing.

"Firemane?" Zexion snagged Roxas from wherever he'd disappeared to and held him at arm's length. "Do you have any _idea_ how dangerous those are? Well, of course you do, _now_. But _did_ you?"

Roxas seemed stunned for a moment, as I think we all were by Zexion's sudden outburst. Roxas recovered faster than any of us, and when he did, he looked just as pissed as Zexion. "It hadn't flamed yet!"

Zexion laughed, a forced, quick, and furious sound. "You two are such idiots," he flung Roxas away from him. "You could have killed someone. And all because you couldn't buy him a gift like a _sane_ person."

Roxas flared up instantly and rushed back towards Zexion. They were going to fight, I knew it and I didn't think about what I was doing when I closed my eyes and jumped in between them. I just knew that the party was already over and that I didn't want it to go any worse than it already had.

"Stop!" They both froze and stared at me. "Now isn't the time to fight each other. Roxas, Axel is hurt, shouldn't you be hovering over him like Sora is over Riku and like Zexion is over me?" Zexion beamed, but then I turned on him and that smile disappeared.

"And you," my voice fell back to something a little quieter than usual. "What was with that kiss earlier? Someone could have seen."

He smiled again, probably thinking he was getting off easy (Roxas was sidling up to the ambulance). "No one was looking, I checked."

"Doesn't matter, it was risky." Cloud and Leon came over and regarded us with vaguely curious expressions. "Don't so it again."

Cloud motioned to the little Takuro Spirit. "Leon is going to follow the ambulance, and I'm going with Axel, and probably Roxas, seeing as how he's trying to pry open the ambulance doors. You guys go with Leon, okay?"

We all nodded, even Zexion, who seemed to be resigned to silence. Cloud looked at us for a moment before sighing and jogging over to the ambulance to help Roxas.

I looked up at Leon and, for once, wasn't afraid of him. He didn't look angry, like he usually did. Instead he seemed to be in an apathetic stupor. Granted, it only lasted until Sora said his name and then he jerked to attention, glared at everyone and no one in particular, and turned towards the car. Sora looked to us, eyes a little wide. "He seems a little bit out of it, don't you think?"

"I, for one, don't really want to ride with him," it was Zexion; he was eyeing Leon and the car suspiciously.

"It'll be okay," I took him by the hand, completely forgetting that I'd just chastised him for PDA about a minute and a half ago. "He's a better driver than Cloud."

"I know," he wasn't really protesting anymore, just making a show of it. "Still, he seems murderous."

I shrugged. "He does that from time to time."

He laughed and we piled into the car, Sora up front, Riku, Zexion, and I in the back. We didn't really talk on the way to the hospital. Mostly because Leon's foul mood settled over us like a suffocating blanket, dismissing most desire for idle chit-chat.

The ride seemed long, probably because we were all too scared to talk. (Zexion would like to butt in for the first time in a few chapters and force me to add that he wasn't scared, just respecting the silence. Can I get a collected eye roll? On three everyone. One. Two. Three.)

Sora was the first to break the silence, but that wasn't until we were parked in the emergency lot. "Who do you think is working tonight?" He seemed bubbly enough, though I'm really not sure how he managed it. "We haven't seen Yuna in a while, have we?"

"I'd rather not speculate," Riku's voice was the exact opposite of Sora's; his being dry and bordering on dangerous apathy.

"He hates to be here, doesn't he?" Zexion whispered so only I could hear him, as Leon started towards the automatically sliding glass door.

I nodded. "He's sick all the time. In and out. So when Axel makes us come here, once a month or so, Riku gets all pissy."

"What's wrong with him?" We were following Leon, Riku and Sora were behind us somewhere.

"I don't really know, a long list of things," (I know in chapter one or something I elaborated on Riku's illnesses but that was all in narrative. At that point all I knew was that Riku was pretty unhealthy.)

Leon paused at the front desk, coldly averting conversation with the receptionist. "Axel, I'm sure you know him. What room?"

The woman nodded and regarded him with a look nearly as cold as his own, it wasn't Yuna. "Room 199. I'm sure you know where it is."

I almost expected Leon to retort somehow, but he didn't. He just nodded curtly, motioned to us, and set off down the hall at something between a saunter and a stalk.

"This place is huge," Zexion's eyes were darting around to things at random. "The hospitals in England aren't bad, in London anyway. But this is meticulously clean even by my standards."

"Well, don't worry, not all hospitals in the country are like this."

"Oh?"

"Some of them are shit holes."

He chuckled and I matched the sound with a grin. It was odd, it felt so normal to be there with him, cracking jokes in what was probably a completely inappropriate time. I was having fun, despite my inhibitions and ruined birthday party and welling sense of impending doom; I was actually having fun.

I took his hand again, feeling reckless but safe within the confines of the hospital. We passed open doors, hand in hand, and I didn't worry about who might be in them to see us. And then we got to a room swarming with doctors like bees might swarm a backpack if it was near their nest.

Leon held up a hand and we halted outside the door as he disappeared into it. A few minutes later Roxas came out, his blue eyes tinted red.

Sora went to him at once, and I thought he might hug Roxas. He didn't, but if Roxas had been any other sort of person Sora probably would have. "Is Axel okay? He seemed okay …"

"That's because he's a stupid jerk," he cast a glance over his shoulder. "His leg's burned pretty bad. He'll be okay, but … The adrenaline wore off on the way over …"

Sora did hug Roxas then, and Roxas didn't try to pull away. They stood, Sora embracing his brother and we were all just standing there, watching them. None of us even had the common decency to look away.

Isn't it funny how that always seems to happen? Some tragic scene is unfurling before you, something you shouldn't watch and you _know_ you shouldn't. But you can't look away, not even for a second.

I didn't want to be there. The sterile smell of the place was sickening. I didn't want to look at the white walls and the machines lining the hall. I didn't want to think of Axel, laying on the clean white sheets, probably pumped full of pain medicine, morphine maybe. I didn't want to think about his leg … About how the skin must look …

Zexion wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me away from Sora and Roxas. He must have known it was to much for me, because he said, "You're awfully pale. Are you alright?"

I wanted to say that yes, I was alright. Axel was hurt and Roxas was terrified, but I was alright. Wasn't I _supposed_ to say I was alright? It came out all wrong though. My words were a single, strained syllable. "No …"

He looked at me for a moment and then turned towards Sora. "We'll be right back."

Sora nodded and Zexion led me down the hall. It seemed a little odd, the way everything was seeping into my skin and horrifying me. I just couldn't forget how _alright_ Axel had seemed … Could adrenaline really do that? Make someone not realize their leg was as crisp as an overcooked French fry? And why hadn't any of us noticed? Was it because our own adrenaline was masking our eyes?

I didn't know, but the thoughts were swirling around my head. Those thoughts and more, too many more. I didn't know where we were going, and only partially because all the neutrally decorated white walls looked alike.

It startled me a little when I felt a soft cushion behind the back of my knees, and I collapsed onto it, onto a chair. Zexion brought me something from a vending machine, I think. Something cold and comforting. He pressed it to my lips.

"Just breathe, Demyx."

I shook my head, but not to say I didn't want to breathe. "I've overreacting."

"No, you're not," he kneeled in front of me, holding the cold drink and I think it was water. "Your friend is hurt, it's okay to be upset."

"Roxas isn't upset … Not like I am. _I'm_ being stupid …"

"No," he shook his head and laid his hand on my knee. "You're not being stupid and I won't tolerate you saying otherwise."

I smiled, glad that he was there, even though I didn't like the situation. He smiled when I did, glanced around the room, and kissed me gently.

The kiss grew upon my action. There, in the hospital waiting room, the first kiss I ever truly enjoyed blossomed into something that siphoned away all my fear. My heart beat up into my throat, the pounding reverberating throughout my entire body. Everything felt heavy, hard to move. It was uncomfortable, but only because it was so new and so strange.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but he was smiling; not sorry in the slightest. "You told me not to kiss you in public."

"Zexion … I've been holding your hand for the past ten minutes."

He chuckled and kissed my forehead. "You seem better now. Not nearly as pale."

I nodded. "I fell better. But … I don't want to go back. I don't feel right there. Like … We shouldn't be watching Sora and Roxas like we were, y'know?"

"I understand. You feel that by watching them you're intruding on something private."

"It sounds better when you say it …"

"Not really," he moved and sat on the chair beside the one I occupied. "I just built on your idea a bit."

I smiled and grasped his hand in mine. It was so much bigger, but infinitely more gentle and soft. He had an artist's hands, and I had the hands of someone who fiddles with a guitar too frequently.

Holding his hand felt perfect, it seemed like our hands fit together perfectly. I know that's completely ridiculous, but it's how it felt. I know that all hands fit together, it's what they're meant to do.

"Let's go back, Demyx."

I shook my head frantically, but he was climbing to his feet and pulling me with him. "Zexion …"

"Shhh. I know you don't want to. But I think they'd want you with them."

I sighed, resigned to the fact that he was going to make me go back to the hallway with the doctors like bees. And Roxas with his brilliant blue eyes still reminiscent of tears cried or tears held back. I didn't know which one.

But the walk back was slow, mostly at my unspoken request. I didn't want to go back, and wouldn't have if Zexion's fingers hadn't been entwined in mine, guiding me along at a pace a little quicker than a crawl.

Sora looked a little worried when we finally got to the corridor he and Roxas were standing in, but Roxas looked better than he did when we left. "Where did you guys go? You okay?" I could tell he wanted to say more, but Roxas shot him a quit-nagging-everyone look and his voice trailed off after only the second question.

I shrugged. "Got thirsty," at this point I realized Zexion and I were still holding hands and I blushed and let go of his.

Zexion rolled his eyes, "How's Axel?"

A small smile spread across Roxas' lips, one that was so purely happy that it looked strange on his features. "He'll be okay. His leg wasn't actually as bad as we thought. I mean, the bastard's burned pretty bad, but he'll only be in the hospital for a week or so."

I smiled, couldn't help it. Ten minutes before that I'd been a wreck, because I was worried about Axel _and _about Roxas. Roxas had just seemed to … Scared. Probably just one of those rare moments of 'weakness' that he'll end up getting pissy about because I decided to include it in this story. Doesn't matter. The point is that just a few minutes before that everything seemed so daunting and terrifying and impossibly horrible. Then things were just suddenly … Back to normal.

"Too bad you guys couldn't get me something that wasn't dangerous," I smiled, it felt nice to smile, to be able to joke again; and I noticed that there wasn't the swarm of doctors around the room anymore and that Cloud was a little down the hall trying to work his cell phone (it was actually probably Leon's cell phone, because I think Cloud doesn't know how to work his).

Roxas scoffed. "Next year we'll make sure to get one that isn't even _close_ to flaming."

Zexion flared up a little, and I could tell that he _wanted_ to say something about the comment, perhaps that there would be no more dangerous gifts, but he restrained himself, and for that I was glad.

Cloud wandered over and looked at all of us, one at a time. "Everyone's okay, right?" His eyes drifted over each of us again. "Where's Riku?"

Sora's eyes widened and darted around the hallway. "He disappeared …"

"No I didn't," Riku came ambling out of one of the side rooms, holding four little cartons of milk. "I went to get something to drink." He tossed a milk to Zexion, me, Roxas, and Sora. "Want one, Cloud? I can get more."

Sora's grinned. "You stole those, didn't you?"

Riku shrugged. "I'll tell them to tack it on to my next bill." Then, in addendum, "If I remember. Which I won't."

Sora fixed him with a momentarily disapproving look but gave it up after about two seconds. He pried open his carton while Cloud shook his head and disappeared back into the room with Axel and Leon.

"D'you think Reno will show up?" I tentatively tasted the milk, somewhat afraid of it, being that it came from the hospital and all.

"I doubt it," Riku said. "I think Axel said something about he and Rude being on some assignment."

"Assignment?"

I looked at Zexion and realized that no one had told him Axel's brother's profession. "Axel's brother, Reno, works for the government. Or … Well, for a branch of the government, really. They … Don't get very much publicity because, well, they tend to do the things other people wouldn't like or approve of."

"So, sort of like MI5?"

"What's that?"

He chuckled. "English intelligence. It's technically a branch of the government but even the Queen doesn't really pay attention to them. Wouldn't do any good to, I suppose, they operate on their own."

"Uhm .. Yeah. Sounds similar. Anyway, this organization is called the Turks … I don't really know why but it is. And, yeah, they get sent overseas all the time and it's kind of exciting."

He nodded. "And, who's Rude?"

"Reno's boyfriend."

My eye twitched. "His what?"

Riku raised a silver eyebrow in a high arc. "Didn't you know that?"

"No," I muttered, a little sullenly.

Riku chuckled and I could see him mentally gearing up to tease me. Luckily, however, Cloud and Leon wandered back into the hall, Leon still looking murderous. "They're going to move Axel into the burn ward," Cloud said, his eyes resting on Roxas. "He's asleep, so we're just going to go home, okay?"

Roxas nodded, his face back to being an emotionless mask. I sort of admired him for that ability, because he seemed to almost always have control over what he was feeling. And, for me, that has always been a struggle. If I feel like crying, I do, pretty much regardless of where I am. Roxas, however, can remain strong under almost any circumstance. It's, amazing, really.

Cloud's eyes drifted over Roxas, Riku and Sora and landed on Zexion and I. "You two can come back to our house, if you want. Or we can take you home."

At this point, my eyes were fixed on the floor, focusing on the patterns in the tile. I didn't want to make the decision, because I didn't want to say that I didn't want to go back to their house. I wanted to go home, wanted to just go to sleep.

"Taking us home would be nice," I looked up, Zexion had said it for me. "You can stay over with me if you don't want to go home."

Cloud regarded us for a moment, and for that moment I thought he might say that it wasn't a good idea to leave us unsupervised. But before he had a chance to say much of anything on the subject Leon butted in and said it was fine, and the he wanted to leave, and he wanted to do it five minutes ago.

No one argued with Leon's point of wanting to leave, everyone there was more intelligent than that. We just wandered back down the hall, onto the elevator, and rode it down to the main lobby. Once there, we started towards the Emergency room exit. And we would have made it out, too, if Zexion hadn't gotten side tracked with the gift store.

He wandered in when we walked past it and didn't bother to tell anyone what he was doing. So, I stopped and stared at him for a moment, and then followed him. I'm pretty sure this happened with Roxas, Riku and Sora, because they followed us in a few seconds later. Cloud came in after them, Leon never did come in.

"What are you doing?" Zexion was back by the wall of teddy bears, staring at them and their assorted colors and sizes.

"Do you like things like this?"

I laughed and blushed. "Half of them say 'Get Well Soon.'"

"Yes, but not all of them," he stood on his tip toes and reached up for a large, blue, sparkly bear that was, unfortunately, devoid of any writing. "What about this one?"

"Why do you want to buy a bear?"

"He wants to get it for you," Riku said, arms crossed over his chest. "Just say you like it so we can get out of here, I'm bored."

I sighed, gaped, and stared alternately between Zexion, Sora, and Riku. Zexion was smiling smugly, Riku looked vaguely annoyed, and Sora was beaming. "I think it's cute," the latter of the three said.

"I like is, Zexion …" My voice was tiny, strained, embarrassed. And I'm pretty certain that my face was bright red, but, really, it had been a while since it had gotten really red.

Zexion's smile widened to something brighter than his usual one for about two seconds, and then he marched up to the counter and laid the bear on it.

"This all for you, dear?" The elderly woman behind the counter said, scanning the tag on the bear's ear.

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled and nodded at him. "Would you like a bag?"

"No thanks, I've got the recipient right over there," here he motioned to me. "I think I'll just give it to him."

"Alright. You have a nice night."

He nodded. "And you too, ma'am."

He took the bear off the counter and walked out of the gift shop. At this point, we were all staring after him, including Cloud, who seemed like he couldn't decide whether or not to be amused or mildly irritated. It seemed that he chose the former because he chuckled in a decidedly un-Cloud-like manner and led the way after Zexion.

I had to jog to catch up with him, seeing as how he was a good bit taller than me at the time and could take significantly longer strides than I. "Why did you buy that?"

He thrust it towards me, forcing me to take it. "Happy birthday, Demyx."

I blushed, again. "You already gave me your present, I thought …"

"I gave you _a_ present." He waited for me to transfer the bear to one arm and then he grasped my hand again. "Besides, it makes me think of you."

"A giant, stuffed, blue bear makes you think of me?"

"Not when you say it like that. But, it's something like that."

I rolled my eyes for what felt like the fiftieth time that day and decided to let go of all attempts at conversation. I was tired, it was only just getting dark outside, and my birthday party had, essentially, been officially canceled for that year. Basically, I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. Should have known things wouldn't be that simple, though. Because, honestly, when are they?

Leon drove Zexion and I back to our apartment complex. We thanked him when he pulled up in the spot my mother's car would inhabit had she been home, and then we got out and waved as they drove away.

"Do you really want me to stay over with you?" I watched him and waited for an answer, as he walked to his apartment door and fished through his pocket for a key.

"Of course, I was looking forward to spending the time with you tonight."

I smiled, a little despite myself, and waited for him to unlock the door and hold it open for me before going in. "We'll have to go get our stuff tomorrow."

"Oh, right. I forgot," I didn't believe him, it just, didn't seem likely that he was the type of person who could possibly forget anything that belonged to him. "Mum," he called down the hallway that was an exact replica of my apartment above his.

"Zexion? What are you doing home?" His mother appeared out of what I assumed was her bedroom; she looked less intense, out of the crisp suit and with her hair only lightly brushed. I liked the look of her, the way her angular face framed her sharp eyes.

"Long story, but it involves fire and a hospital visit." She didn't ask if everyone was alright, which is what I would have expected from a parent, instead, she just nodded and turned back to disappear into her room.

Zexion didn't say anything else until we were in his room, which was directly below mine and had a decent view of the rusted fire escape he liked to climb up. Once in there he sat on the bed and began unlacing his shoes. "Make yourself comfortable," he said.

I looked around the room, only mildly surprised by the sterile cleanliness of the place. Yes, there were boxes stacked in the closet and along one of the walls, but they weren't cardboard, they were plastic and clearly labeled. Most of this things must not have been unpacked, because the only things I could see that had any indication of personal importance were his laptop and a small television set.

"Have you guys found a house yet?"

He shook his head, got up and deposited his shoes along two other pairs. "Mum's still looking, but she thinks she may have found one she likes at least marginally. I think we're going to look at it in the next week or so, but I'm not really sure."

I nodded, and I wanted to tell him that I'd miss him when he moved, that I like having him under me when I fell asleep at night. But I was worried that, by saying that, I would be admitting something that I wasn't ready for. That maybe, just maybe, the fact that I was thinking such things meant that, in reality, I liked him a lot more than I wanted to admit.

"I'm not really rushing her," he said and returned to the bed, where he laid back on it, hands linked behind his head. "I like living here, by you."

I smiled, it was nice to hear. Good to know that he enjoyed me being there at least a little. But it surprised me a little, and I'm not sure why, because it should have been obvious to me that he'd like staying near me, given the way he always spoke to me. Yet it _did_ surprise me. And later on I was a little ashamed for that initial feeling.

"But, like I told you, I'll still go to your school. But you'll have to get yourself up in the morning, think you can manage that?"

My eyes narrowed into a playful glare (not that I can really manage much else) and I kicked my shoes off to join him on the bed. I sat by him, looking down at him and chewing on my bottom lip for a moment, before laying beside him and sliding my arm across his chest.

Neither of us said anything, I think I kept silent because I was thinking about how warm he was, and how wonderful it felt to be close enough that I could, in the silence, hear his heartbeat. And, I have no idea why he was so quiet, but if I had to venture a guess, which I suppose I do, I would say that he was likely afraid that speaking, or moving, or even breathing too heavily would disrupt me somehow and I might run like I was wont to do.

"Demyx ..." His voice was quieter than I'd ever heard it, almost strained.

"Huh?"

"You feel comfortable around me, right?"

I hesitated a moment, not sure where the conversation was going and not sure how I _wanted_ it to go. "Yeah, most of the time. Why?"

He didn't answer for a long time, and at one point I thought he was asleep, but his eyes were open and I could almost see his thoughts swirling behind them. "Never mind. I'll tell you some other time."

I wanted to argue, because I wanted to know what he was talking about. Possibly because his voice sounded so raw, so borderline vulnerable. I was thinking about it, about what he could possibly have wanted to say. He'd never hesitated to say anything to me before, even if it was something he thought I wouldn't want to hear, so that he'd silence himself for my benefit really was a new thing for me.

All these thoughts and more were swirling through my mind one minute. And the next, I was kissing him.

I was on top of him, barely supporting myself on one straightened arm, and our lips pressed together lightly at first and then instantly became inseparable. I felt him take control of the kiss I started, felt him build on my passion and I let him guide the situation where we both wanted it to go.

His tongue slid into my mouth and I think I gasped a little. It was a strange sensation, having our tongues dance together in quick circles and brisk lashes. Strange. New. Amazing. Wonderful. Perfect. I haven't the time to search a thesaurus to give me other words to use for it.

It didn't last long enough, however, and when he pulled away I groaned quietly. Or, I like to think it was a groan, really, it was more like a mixture of a groan and a whimper. I wanted him, I knew it then, and I wasn't holding myself back anymore. It was like some dam had broken and a flood of emotion and desire had poured forth. (Granted, I think I'd forgotten at that point that I was only fourteen and thus prone to emotional upheaval.)

"Demyx ... Do you realize what you're doing?"

I couldn't meet his eyes, I wanted to but I just ... couldn't. And I felt the blush rise back into my face as I nodded and searched for words to describe the way I was feeling. "I ... Yeah, I do. And ... Zexion, why did you stop?"

He gazed up at me and ran a hand through my messy hair. "Tell me if I do something you don't like, okay?" He whispered and waited for me to nod before adding, "Gods, I feel like a cradle robber."

Ordinarily I would have responded negatively to such a comment, but at that moment I found it funny somehow, entertaining. None of it mattered, none of the words we could exchange or anything else. All I wanted was his lips against mine, his skin against mine ...

And, of course, he gave me what I wanted. Our lips met and locked again and the kiss resumed from where it had left off. Only when it did I could feel that he'd shed his inhibitions, his worry of scaring me away. He knew that I wanted it as badly as he did.

It didn't surprise me or startle me when I felt his hand trace its way down my side. I didn't move when it stayed, suspended for a moment, just above the button of my pants. "Are you okay?" He asked, breaking the kiss, and my answer was to kiss him again, to reforge the bond he'd momentarily broken.

And, what can I say about what I felt when he undid my pants and slid his hand down, under my underwear and to the soft, receptive skin there? It was nice, infinitely nicer than doing it myself, and I thought in those moments that I'd never be able to masturbate again. Because having him touch me was just too much to fathom, really.

He was two years older than me, and I could tell by the way he handled me that he had more experience than I'd likely ever ask about. Also, I was fourteen at the time. And everything was so perfect and amazingly powerful feeling.

Basically, the whole encounter only lasted a few minutes, and then I was spent, with his hand still on the inside of my pants. He withdrew it slowly, though, and I felt his hand move across my skin and he broke the kiss for the first time since he'd asked me if I was alright.

"Demyx, would it be alright if I told you that I think I love you?"

I froze a little, still ringing a little from the pleasure. At that moment, hearing those words from him seemed to be the best thing imaginable. I think it was because in the instant of climax I'd shed any reservations I had left. In that moment, laying there on top of him, that I loved him too.

And that, I believe, is when things _really_ started to get complicated.

* * *

I stayed the night there that night, and the next morning when we woke up his mother took us to get our things from Sora and Roxas.' Neither of them were home, so we were spared having to deal with them, and Leon didn't make a big deal of bringing us our things.

On the way back, Zexion kissed my cheek and said goodbye to me, saying that he didn't want to risk it in front of the apartment building because we both knew my mother would be home by the time we got back. And she was home, her little blue car was parked in its spot and when I saw it my heart did something like a backflip.

"I'll see you later, Demyx," Zexion said as I walked up the stairs, one at a time.

"Bye," I waved and opened the door into the apartment.

Everything looked exactly as it had the day before. And when I walked into the living room I didn't immediately think anything was wrong. It wasn't until I noticed that my mother's face had streaks of tears coursing down it did I realize that something horrible must have happened.

"Mom?"

She looked up at me, and for a moment it seemed like her eyes were looking past me, at something over my shoulder. Then she said, "Someone saw you. You and that ... That _faggot_ Zexion. And Demyx, it ends here."

* * *

**A/N: **I don't want to say much, because I don't want to ruin the somber mood of that last little bit. All I'd like to say is that this is where things get rough, this is where more of the actual plot comes in. And, from here on out, nothing is held sacred, because everything can be destroyed.

(If you notice any errors, please let me know in a review and I will fix them as soon as possible.)


	10. Fleeing the Scene

**A/N:** Wow. It's … Been forever since I last updated this thing. Sorry 'bout that, I sort of … Got caught up in random things going on and stopped writing this (that isn't to say I'm done with it, gods no! I'm updating, aren't I?) Anyway, thank you all for your reviews and your patience! And, again, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update.

We'll call this a Halloween present, kay?

**Warning: **The word "fag" will be used in this chapter. I'm sorry. I hate to do it, trust me, I cringe every time I type it. But, Demyx's mother is, unfortunately, the type of woman to use it, and to use it frequently. I'm sorry if it offends anyone, but, if it does, keep in mind that it offends me too, but, I'm trying to be true to the character …

**Disclaimer: **I don't own KH or any of the characters therein. I do, however, own Zexion's Grandfather and Demyx's mother (in this story, at least). Just, don't sue me, kay guys? (I only have something like $1.40 (less than that now…) to my name, anyway …)

* * *

**Started on: **9/13/07 

**Finished on:** 10/31/07

* * *

**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter Ten: Fleeing the Scene**

I stood, staring at my mother, my mouth opening and closing the way a fish's does. Too many emotions attacked my equilibrium, wore away from of my sanity and control. Fear and anger battled each other, both wanting to steer my actions. Anger, the more violent of the two, won; and in an instant my hands had balled into tight fists and furious tears had risen in my eyes.

What she had called Zexion was, so far as I was concerned, unforgivable and unwarranted. She didn't _know_ him. She'd barely even _met_ him. And when she did, she'd _liked_ him. But at that moment, she hated him because she thought he'd corrupted me in some way. She hated him, and I hated her for it.

She must have seen as much in my normally passive eyes because she stepped back and away from me. I knew the momentary hesitation would be just that, brief, but I had every intention of using it to my fullest advantage.

"Why does it matter?" My voice was quiet, infinitely weaker than I wanted it to be.

"It's _wrong_, Demyx." Her voice trembled, but I had a feeling that it wasn't out of fear.

"Says who? Some invisible guy you have no proof of?"

The sound her hand made on my face echoed in the apartment and in the silence. We stood, a few feet apart still, and stared at each other. She was shocked, her eyes wide, but, I didn't know whether she was surprised that she'd struck me or because I'd said something so openly blasphemous.

After what seemed like an eternity she turned away from me. Her shoulders hitched. "Go to your room Demyx."

I hadn't the heart to disobey her, so I turned and ran to my room. The door slammed behind me, and then I sank down it, to the floor, finally dissolving into tears.

My heart was doing something I didn't understand, at the time. It beat quickly, then slowly, pounded throughout my entire being, and faded away to near nothingness. Pain became my silent companion, coursing its way through my body, adding strength to my tears.

Everything I'd made since meeting Zexion was ruined. My mother would likely go to hell and back to keep us apart, and I was agonizingly aware of the fact. I'd fallen in love with him, with the happiness he brought me, with the smile he lit upon my face.

But it was over. Done. Finished. All save the pain I felt certain would never pass.

Pain though, along with other things, has a funny way of clearing itself out after a while. It seems that, when things seem never ending, the finish line looms just to spite you. And, though the pain didn't leave completely, I was able to move after sobbing against the door for a few moments.

I started pacing the room, completely unsure of what to do. Part of me wanted to pack my guitar, some clothes, and just run away. Go to Zexion, get him, and rush to the sunset with his hand in mine. But I knew that wouldn't work, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to break down and cry again; because it was such a lovely possibility, though thoroughly impossible.

My mother couldn't have known how much she was hurting me. I just can't believe that any loving parent would put their child through that sort of emotional torture. Then again, thousands of "loving" parents have exiled their homosexual children. Because they were …

I ran to the door, wrenched it open, and rushed into the living room. My mother sat on the sofa, clutching a bottle of beer in one hand and staring, with red-veined eyes, at the blank television screen. She didn't look up at me, didn't acknowledge that I was there.

"Mom … I'm not gay." It sounded so pathetic, and it tasted a lie (though at the time I was still warring with myself in regards to my sexuality).

She glanced up at me, and I could see the hope and disbelief beneath the shimmering surface of her eyes. "They _saw_ you with him, Demyx."

I sighed and nodded. "I … Zexion and I are dating ..." her face contorted into something, either rage or pain or embarrassment. "But … That doesn't make me gay."

"What exactly does that make you then? Huh? Half fag?"

I recoiled from the word; I hated the way it sounded, even then, when it had only been turned on me once. When I spoke to her it was quiet, scarcely audible. "Please don't use that word … It--"

"Offends you? Does it, Demyx? Well, you know what offends me? My son, running around with some _god damned faggot._"

"How can you pretend like you believe in god and all that righteous crap one minute, and then say 'god damned' the next? How can you do that, mom?"

She looked down, straight at the beer bottle she was holding. And, dammit, part of my soul broke then, stripped away. I never got that part of me back, the part that cared about my mother and wanted to make her happy. It left then, and I bid it a silent good riddance.

"Didn't I tell you to go to your room?"

I nodded, but didn't move. Something strange was coursing through me, a new sort of conviction that demanded I stay and argue for myself, for my right to love. Only, it probably wasn't anything as complicated as that, I was still young, it was more likely me being stubborn, and rebellious, but I like to think it was a conviction for what I believed in.

"I'm not going to break up with him."

She stared up at me, mouth slightly open. "You're fourteen years old and you'll do as I tell you."

I shook my head, still unmoving. "No. Not … Not on this …"

The next few minutes passed in a blur of motion. I saw her come across the room for me, she dropped her beer and it spilled everywhere. But then there was pain, her fingers wrapped in my hair and dragging me to my room. The door slammed shut and I tripped when she shoved me.

"You need a change of scenery, Demyx," she said, through the door. "That's what wrong. You just need to be somewhere new for a while. Maybe … Maybe we'll come back later."

I tried to go to the door, but my ankle hurt. I'd managed to twist it when I tripped and I was too much of a baby to ignore the pain long enough to go to the door and pry it open. But, she was confusing me, the things she was saying. I didn't know what they meant, not until she clarified.

"Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll just have to move us." She paused for a moment and I could hear her breathing heavily against the door. "We're going back to France, Demyx."

At first, I don't think what she said registered, because I didn't react for a long moment. I just sat there on the floor, absently massaging my ankle and replaying what she'd said over and over again in my mind. Change of scenery. Moving. France.

_France._

It hit me, suddenly, what she was intended to do. Leaving France had always been, she said, the biggest mistake of her life (which meant, didn't it, that the marriage to my father and my birth were mistakes too?). She'd always wanted to go back some day, maybe the news of a possibly gay some was just what she needed to pack up and return.

My ankle was starting to swell, and the more I touched it the more painful it was. That constituted as abuse, I was sure, and, I knew that if I went to someone about it, I could potentially get taken away. My mother was a drunk, but, she very rarely got violent. Only when, as had happened that night, her emotions were pushed too far. Still, I knew there was no way I could go to anyone about it, because, though she had certainly betrayed me, I didn't feel that I could return the favor.

I could, however, lock my door and fight my way out of my window and onto the fire escape. Doing so, however, required the use of both my legs, and the pressure I had to put on my ankle drew tears to my eyes. See, I've never been very good at ignoring or dealing with pain, and my ankle combined to what I was about to tell Zexion had me in silent tears well before I actually got to Zexion's window (which is saying something, because he was only one floor down).

He wasn't in his room, so I knocked on the window. It must have sounded desperate, because when he came into his room his hair was mildly disheveled and he looked, for once, surprised. A smile grew on his face, for an instant, and then he saw me, saw the tears, and all happiness faded from his face.

When he opened the window and offered me his hand, I crumbled. I fell through the window and into his arms, sobbing and wishing everything could go back to the way it had been only hours ago.

He didn't say anything for a long while, just held me and ran his fingers through my hair. That hurt, the gentle motion meant to soothe me, because my mom had left my scalp sore. But I didn't say anything, I liked the feeling, even with the pain, because there was love radiating from the touch, and I wanted to hold onto that for as long as I can.

Finally, however, the silence was broken, as I knew it would be. "Demyx, what happened?" He spoke softly, far gentler than I thought he was capable of, but I was glad for it, though it opened up another well of tears.

"My mom knows Zexion. Someone saw us when we were at Sora's, or at the hospital, or something, I don't know. But, she … She knows. And she's pissed. And, she said we're going to move back to France because she doesn't want me to be around you anymore. She blames you, and I told her not to but she does anyway. And … And …" I broke off into sobs and heavy breathing.

He stared at me for a moment; probably trying to decipher what I'd said (it had all been in one breath and interjected with an uncontrolled sob every few words). "She's moving you to France, because you're dating me?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

"And, she's the reason you're in this state?" His eyes traveled down me, rested on my swollen ankle. "Did she do that too?" The anger that rose in his voice made me shudder, it was terrifying, it all was.

"Y-yes …"

I could see fury working behind his cold eyes, and, for a moment, I was afraid he might release me and go up to my apartment to my mother. It wasn't out of the question, it was certainly in character for him, but the prospect of him confronting my mother about _anything_ made me tremble and made more tears threaten to spill …

He didn't do anything, however, just held me closer, his fingers still working through my hair. "Go to the Child Protection Service. She's abusing you, Demyx."

I shook my head. "I … I can't do that to her. She's … Zexion, she's my _mom_."

He picked me up and sat me on his bed. Gods, he was so strong, and he was so small too. "I understand that, believe me, I do. But, you can't let her do these things to you."

"You think I want to?" I had to fight to keep my voice down, the ceiling was as thin as the walls and I didn't want my mother to hear me. "You think I_want_ to go to France? You think I _want_ to leave you? I … I don't, Zexion. But, what choice do I have?"

"How long will she keep you there?"

I shook my head because the truth was, I didn't know. She could have been lying to me, saying it to scare me away from him. I didn't think so, however; I believed her. There had been something in her eyes, some shining bit of truth that made me think she was serious.

That's why I went to Zexion. Because he had to know how sorry I was, how much I wished things could turn out differently. But, when I got to him, I could only stand there and stare at the floor.

It was Zexion who spoke first. "I can't accept that you're leaving for good." She stood with his arms crossed over his chest in quiet determination. And I knew it wasn't going to be easy to leave him, or, that it was going to be harder to leave him than I thought. He was going to make it harder than I wanted it to be …

"What can we do?"

"Well, if she's serious, we can't avoid you leaving." He was fighting to keep his voice level, I could tell, but what emotion, exactly he was blocking out I wasn't sure. Anger, perhaps, sadness, maybe. "But, Demyx, we do live in the 21st century."

I didn't understand at first, and then it sort of, clicked. Going to France didn't mean I would never be able to speak to him! True, I wouldn't be able to see him, or hold his hand, but, I would still be able to know him! And … Maybe I'd still be able to date him. Long distance relationships are renowned for how difficult they are, but … I thought it would be worth a try.

And then I remembered that I didn't have a computer, that we'd never had one because of money issues. Moving to France wasn't likely to improve our financial situation.

"I don't have a computer …"

His face fell, but only a little and only for a moment before he shook it off. "No matter," he said, almost briskly. "You can take mine," he motioned to the desk in the room, and to the immaculate white laptop sitting there.

I shook my head at once, that thing had to have been worth way more money than I'd ever had. I didn't feel right _thinking _about taking it, let alone actually doing so. "I can't Zexion …"

"Demyx," his voice was quiet, soft, and he sat beside me, one arm going around my shoulders. "In case you haven't been able to tell, my mother has a lot of money. We're only living in these apartments still because I told her I didn't want to move to the Garden District." He paused for a moment. "We found a house there, you know, one we liked. She almost bought it."

He wasn't saying it to brag, I knew that. He was saying it because he wanted to make me feel comfortable with taking the laptop. But I don't think he realized how much it bothered me. Of course, I knew he wasn't going to let me get away with anything short of taking it.

"The point, Demyx, is that I can get a new computer. But, will your mum get you one?"

I sighed. "It's not likely … But, she wouldn't let me keep yours, either."

"Well, that's why you can't tell her."

I finally looked up at him; the determination in his eyes was comforting. But I wasn't so sure it was logical. Part of me wanted to give up, to just roll over and let my mother have her way. There was a large part of me, however, that didn't want to let go of Zexion. That part was confused by how big a deal my mother was making everything, because I saw no problem in any of it.

"Where am I going to hide it?"

He smiled, a much more mischievous one than I thought he was capable of. "Well, I think I can help you with that."

"How?"

"If I explain something to you, you have to swear to not say anything about it, because, technically, I'm not allowed to talk about it."

My interest piqued. I'll admit it. Zexion was quite by nature, but he'd never had a problem telling me anything before. And I knew that if it was something that he believed required a promise, it had to be something interesting.

"I swear," I swiped my fingers across my heart in a gesture I wasn't sure he understood.

"My mum used to work for a branch of the British military that is, essentially, like America's CIA. She went undercover in other countries more times than one, and there were times that she needed to hide things while going places." He stood and brushed dirt off his clothes that wasn't there. "I can get you one of her old suitcases, I doubt she'll mind, she likes you."

I blinked. That his mother had done something like that didn't really surprise me. I had thought from the moment I met her, that she had a sort of military strictness to her. It was in the way she carried herself, the way she wore her clothing and hair. Still, it was a shock to hear.

"I don't know when we're actually going to go … But … I'll probably not be at school again …"

Bringing up school made me remember his Grandfather, my English teacher, the man who had convinced me that my writing might go somewhere one day. He'd entered a short story of mine into a literary contest a while back, but the results weren't back. It was looking to me like I'd never know the way the contest turned out.

Oddly enough, that hurt more than anything else going on (probably because Zexion had reminded me that we would still be able to talk).

"Can you do me a favor? I mean … Another favor. Aside from the computer, and the bag …"

"Of course, what is it?"

"Well … You remember that contest your Grandfather entered me into?" He nodded. "Well … I don't think I'm going to be here when the results come back, but I kinda want to know what happens with it. Do you think you could have him tell you what happens and then, maybe you could e-mail it to me?"

He nodded. "If you win, Demyx, there's a lot of money involved. Enough for a plane ticket back here."

The implications of his words took a moment to hit me, but, when they did, I instantly felt tears sting my eyes. It was a national competition amongst, mostly, private school students in higher grades than I, because of that, the prize was a couple thousand dollars (first place, anyway). Winning it would, in fact, give me enough money to buy a plane ticket back. There was nothing I could do with it, however, if my mother wouldn't let me.

"I'll have to wait until I'm 16, though." I said, musing. "But … Zexion, I could get emancipated!"

He smiled. "I'm glad you got the meaning of that."

I was smiling, crying and smiling at the same time. The chances of winning were slim, but, it would be something good. And, so far as I could tell, I hadn't done anything bad to warrant bad karma. In fact, I'd gone through an awful lot in the weeks before the confrontation with my mother.

My writing wasn't very strong, or so I thought. The story I'd submitted hadn't been revised as much as I would have liked, and I was sure there were going to be more original pieces there. But I held onto hope. And, the prizes for second and third place weren't bad, either. Maybe not enough to get me a plane ticket from France, but, maybe if I had a job to implement the winnings …

"I still don't want to go," I whispered, leaning my head against Zexion. I didn't care, in that moment, about any of my denial. The realization that I could loose him, that what we had wasn't necessarily infallible made me shed some of my denial. I loved him; I knew that, because it was the only way to explain the way I'd reacted when my mother had a go at me.

My arms went around his waist, his around my neck. "I want to stay here, with you." I could feel more tears coming, not the happy mixture that had been in my eyes moments previously, but bitter tears coming from somewhere in my soul. I could have held them back, if I'd tried, but I didn't want to. I wanted to cry, because I knew I'd feel better afterwards.

His arms tightened around me as I cried, and the more I could feel him the more I wanted to cry. Because I knew that it could be years before I'd be able to be in his arms again. The comfort I felt around him would be lost to me in France, and maybe that hurt worst of all. The knowledge that I'd not have any hugs, or kisses, or _touches_.

After a few minutes he started running his fingers through my hair and making soft, comforting noises. It must have hurt him to see me like that, because he was being much gentler than I thought possible. And, I'm not sure why it always surprises me when he's sweet; maybe because he seems so cold to everyone, so distant.

"I'm going to go get you that suitcase," he whispered when my tears slowed to a stop. "And some ice for your ankle."

As he got up I became acutely aware of my ankle. I'd managed, somehow, to block out the dull throbbing there, and the swelling had gotten a little worse. It would hurt for a while, I knew that, and I also knew it _might_ make my mother feel a little bit of guilt for what she'd done and was doing. At that moment, a little bit of guilt didn't feel like it would suffice. I wanted her to _know_ the pain I was feeling, because then she wouldn't continue to inflict it.

Zexion was only out of the room for a few moments. While he was gone I could, mutedly, hear the conversation he had with his mom. They were talking about me, I knew, about why he needed to give me one of her suitcases and his laptop. Her response was quieter than his explanation, but, I felt certain that she didn't mind giving me things, and maybe that she even felt a little bad for me.

When he came back into the room he was carrying a monster of a bag that I wasn't even sure I could carry. And that's when another problem occurred to me.

"Zexion, my mother is going to know that isn't mine …"

"Well, then she'll be wrong, because we're giving it to you, it is yours."

The tiny bit of technicality didn't make me feel any better. "Where am I going to tell her I got it?"

"Birthday present, from Sora and Roxas. They gave it to you when you told them you were going to be moving."

I stared at him for a moment. "Do you plan these things ahead of time?"

He shook his head, sadly. "I'd never be able to, because I hate the idea of you leaving. I'm just good at coming up with things on the spot."

I nodded and stood, carefully avoiding too much pressure on my ankle. "Here," he sat the bag on the ground and handed me an ice pack covered in a thing cloth. "That's for your ankle." He looked down at it for a moment, anger flickering across his face in dark shadows. "If she touches you again, I want you to come back down here to me."

"What if it happens when we leave?"

He was silent for a moment, no longer. "Demyx, you have to convince her that you're straight," I started to protest, but he kept going and paid me no mind. "Do whatever you have to, to give her no reason to hurt you anymore, okay? I can deal with you being in France for a while, but I cannot deal with the knowledge that she's abusing you."

It was odd, hearing the person who had coaxed me out of the bland waters of heterosexuality telling me that I needed to put myself more securely in the closet. What was even more strange was that I didn't want to hide myself. I wasn't ready to say that I was gay, but I was ready to say I wasn't straight and I didn't want to lie to anyone about that.

However, I understood the importance of remaining 'straight' in my mother's eyes. And so I nodded.

He nodded, sadly it seemed, and hugged me. "You should go back to your room, I don't want your mother to realize that you came down here. You'd be in more trouble," his eyes drifted to my ankle for a moment, and I knew he'd never forget or forgive that she'd hurt me.

I didn't want to leave his room anymore than I wanted to leave the country. What I wanted the most in the world, at that moment, was to stay with him until I absolutely had to leave. Of course, at that moment, it was best for me to go, and I knew that.

It was that knowledge that gave me the will to climb out the window, carefully, with the suitcase and laptop, and go back up into my room.

I could hear my mother in the shower, which I took as a good thing because it gave me time to hide the bag in my closet. Once that was done I sat on laid on my bed, and the fact that I might be leaving everything I knew behind sank in. There was nothing I could do, at that time, to stop the tears that came. And Zexion wasn't there to comfort me.

* * *

As it turned out, we did go to France. My mother told me, the entire way there, that she was happy to be going back, and that everything in America was bad memories and hardship. She thought France would set us free of something, though of what I'm not sure.

Our family greeted me with warm smiles, but not my mother. They didn't like her before she ran away with my father and had me, and it was apparent their minds hadn't changed. Still, they didn't hold it against her because to do so would be to harm me.

For the sake of time and for the sake of everyone reading this, I'm not going to spend chapters detailing everything that happened in France. To be honest, not anything of consequence happened.

The contest results came in, and Zexion's e-mail was dripping with melancholy when he told me I hadn't won anything. But by that point, I had a job. It didn't pay enough, but over the two years I spent waiting for my 16th birthday, the money accumulated.

My mother found the laptop a couple months shy of my 16th birthday. Luckily, by that time, I'd managed to figure out how to work computers and all the conversations I had logged with Zexion were inaccessible to her, so, she didn't know anything, she just had renewed suspicions as to my sexuality.

The night before I turned 16, I sat down with my mother to tell her that I was leaving France. She ... Took the news a lot better than I thought she would. Her first reaction was to stare at me blankly, and then to inform me that I would never be able to support myself. Once she found out, however, that Zexion would, essentially, be taking care of me, she became furious.

By that time, however, I'd grown. I wasn't the tiny 14 year old she'd been able to lug around so easily. I was nearly 16, and sometime between 14 and 16 I'd added a good few inches to my build. She slapped me, once, twice, and on the third time I caught her hand and held in it front of my face.

She started sobbing then, about how she'd wronged me somewhere by allowing me to grow up gay. It was 'an abomination unto the Lord,' and I was duly noted that if I continued with my 'perverse life style decision' I would burn in Hell for all of eternity.

I'd heard it all before. It didn't scare me anymore. God was dead to me, as he's been since the dawn of time, and the next morning, I was on a plane, bound for America and for Zexion.

* * *

**A/N:**... I'm iffy as to the quality of that time skip. I sincerely hope it doesn't sound stupid. But, honestly, I was getting tired of writing from the point of view of a 14 year old. So much more is open to me now, because, well, he's older. And, remember, Zexion is around 19 now.

Also, I just realized. I don't like this chapter. If you find something fundamentally wrong with it, kindly pretend it doesn't really exist and continue reading with chapter 11 (when it's up). That would be greatly appreciated. (Granted, I don't think I've ever particularly liked a chapter ...)

Oh, if you think the drama is done, you're wrong. Demyx hasn't heard the last of his mother, and he still has the community to contend with.

I hope I see you guys next chapter. And ... I'll try to not take over a month in writing this. (Even though, technically, I started this chapter yesterday ...)


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